Flash Forward
by RJ Thompson
Summary: *COMPLETE!* A supercharged new mutant's powers send Adam and Emma into a bleak future, ruled by Mason Eckhart! Will they survive to change the future or will they be trapped in a nightmare forever? Please R&R!
1. The Brave New World

-I don't own Mutant X or any of the characters. I do own this story and the character's I've created.  
  
Mutant X: Flash Forward  
*Author's Note* = This story is set between A Breed Apart, the first season finale, and the second  
season premiere.  
  
Part One:  
The Brave New World  
  
  
First there was silence. Then Emma DeLauro felt the numbness in her flesh give way to a feeling of being pricked by ten thousand needles. She tried to scream out in pain but there was no air. Her lungs burned and tried to draw breath. The vast nothingness around her yielded nothing but the brilliant luminescence that had washed over her only seconds before. Shivers of stunning cold ran up and down her spine. The light burned her eyes, yet they were closed and covered by her hands. 'So,' Emma thought apathetically as a sensation of being torn into tiny pieces wrenched from her any lingering sense of well-being, 'this is hell.'  
  
Emma had never expected the price of her few sins to be this agony, especially not considering the heroic actions she'd been a part of since joining Mutant X. Yet, what could this blinding suffering be but damnation? Emma's mind couldn't focus because of the pain and the need to breath.  
  
Then, like waking from a bad dream, it was over. Emma felt a sensation of falling. Her body seemed to drop an inch or two and she was laying on a cold, wet patch of green grass, staring up at the full moon. For a few moments, Emma's eyes were almost inhumanly acute, for they had begun to adjust slightly to the light from a few moments before. Now, as her vision became darker, her body seemed to realize it was no longer in pain. Joy overcame Emma and she wept softly, the tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
"I'm alive." She whispered to the night.  
  
"So am I."  
  
The voice came from beside Emma. She didn't need to look to recognize it. "Adam?" Her own words were colored now by concern. Adam sounded as if he had been through an even more painful experience than her. "Are you okay?"  
  
Adam didn't answer. Emma turned toward him, worried. He was wiping tears from his eyes. "I suppose so." He said, his voice hollow and weak. "I feel like I've been run over by the Double Helix, though." A ghost of a smile formed on his face.  
  
"Are you sure you're alright? You look terrible." Emma said without thinking. She started to sit up and apologize but a wave of dizziness and nausea forced her back to the wet grass. "Sorry." She grumbled, a hand pressed firmly to her stomach to keep what was inside from spewing out.  
  
Groaning with obvious agony and extreme strain, Adam sat up and was immediately doubled over with a fit of dry heaves. It lasted too long to be a good sign. But even as Emma tried to get up and help her friend and leader, Adam was waving her back down. "I can take it. I'm not quite as feeble as all of you seem to think."  
  
There was a long and uncomfortable silence in which both Adam and Emma looked around, considering their surroundings. They were laying in an empty field under a full moon. It was a cold night, with a sharp wind that howled along like a vengeful ghost hunting for prey. Clouds covered the moon slightly but there was enough light so see fairly well for about ten feet. To their right stood a collapsed in hulk of a building. To their left was a dusty road that could have led to Oz for all they knew. In all other directions there was nothing to be seen but glistening grass and patches of barren earth, pockmarks on an otherwise perfect earthly face.  
  
Emma felt something go cold in her heart. "Where's Jesse?" She turned her head, wincing from the pain but ignoring it. "Shalimar? Brennan?" Her voice carried far in the empty landscape. Regardless, there was no answer. Fear quickly replaced pain as Emma forced herself to sit up straight.  
  
Beside her, Adam was getting on his feet, albeit in a very unstable manner. He was still suffering from pains that were virtually indescribable. Even his superior intellect, a match for nearly anyone, was at a loss to find words sufficient to convey the depths of agony he had endured. "Shalimar? Brennan, Jesse? If you can't answer, make some kind of noise! Brennan, if you can, throw sparks!" Commanding in tone, a leader in every sense, Adam ignored his body's frailty and started searching for any signs of electrical discharge while listening for any sound that could conceivably be made by a person.  
  
There were no sparks. Silence loomed ominous as a shrouded corpse at his own funeral.  
  
"Adam?" Emma was trying to get to her feet. She stumbled, but Adam managed to catch her. He pulled her to him. They embraced out of fear and desperate need. "Where are they? What happened? One minute it's the middle of the morning and now. . ." Emma's voice trailed off as she started crying.  
  
Adam smoothed her hair and tried to be reassuring. In truth, he was terrified. Ever the scholar, he had learned astronomy a few years ago. Now, staring up at the moon and stars, Adam knew that he and Emma had been trapped in that blinding and painful white light for a long time. Not seconds, not minutes, not even hours. They had been trapped for many days, perhaps even weeks. Adam shuddered. How powerful had Portia Klein become?  
  
Emma must have been thinking along a similar track. "Do you think we were in on of Portia's stasis fields? Maybe the others are still stuck?" A horrified expression formed on her face. Emma couldn't bare the thought of her friends trapped in that white agony. "We've got to help them."  
  
"No. If they had been trapped in stasis, they'd still be visible." Adam waved a hand to encompass the lonely area. Emma started to say something but Adam beat her to it. "And they wouldn't have left us behind. So that leaves only one conclusion." He paused, gathering his thoughts, rethinking what he was about to say, praying that he'd over looked something. Briefly, he wondered if he'd gone mad. When he accepted that no other solution made logical sense, Adam let out a deep sigh. "We weren't in a stasis field. We were transported through time."  
  
Emma stared at Adam. "Tell me you're joking." When Adam didn't reply, Emma took a step back from him. "No. This isn't funny Adam." She looked around. The unfamiliar landscape, the strangely cold night when it had been summer, and the sheer desolation all around them seemed to break through Emma's attempt at denial. "Oh my God." She whispered.  
  
"It's going to be okay. We'll get back to Sanctuary and we'll find a way to reverse the effects of Portia's attack." Adam said, though he knew it wasn't going to be anywhere close to that simple. He didn't want Emma to worry too much. He knew that it would be possible to reverse the effects, he just wasn't yet sure how to do it. First things first though. . .  
  
"We need a place to stay the night." Emma said, almost as if she were reading Adam's mind.  
  
He nodded. "If we follow this road," Adam gestured toward the dirt path, "we should find someone. I hope."  
  
"I would have been happy if you hadn't said that last part." Emma muttered as she started walking. Adam followed, a pace behind and to her left. If anyone attacked them, Adam intended to flank them while Emma briefly defended. Her new mutant gifts and her talent for unarmed combat made her a more effective fighter.  
  
'And,' Adam thought as another aching pain shot through his body, 'I'm still feeling the effects of the temporal displacement.' Now that he knew what the hellish white pain was, it helped him to deal with it.  
  
In silence, the two walked for close to an hour. As they topped a hill, they came to a fork in the path, which was seemingly guarded by an enormous statue. In the darkness, they couldn't make out any facial features. But as they drew closer, Adam felt a chill hand grip his heart. Emma gasped and drew back a step.  
  
"Oh, dear God, no." Adam said forcefully. He willed the statue away with all of his might.  
  
But it remained. Its lined face a perfect sculpting of the man it was made to honor. Its dead marble eyes more alive than the real thing. A double helix in one upraised hand, the other clasped over a heart as cold as the statue's own. Glinting in the faint moonlight, like some demonic piece of scripture from a demon's black bible, was a plaque which read "All Hail Mason Eckhart, Emperor of Humanity."  
  
*****  
  
Grant Van Negus, an employee of his master Eckhart's most recent creation, the Genetic Subjugation Service or GSS, watched perplexed as two small dots blinked into existence on his scanner's screen. "What the hell?" He grumbled and swore foully, shaking the accursed machine  
in the same way he did to break an infant's neck. "Lousy piece of Genomex trash." The screen  
still showed the two blips that had not been there mere seconds before. Grant doubted the rebels  
had suddenly developed cloaking technology so he assumed the scanner was malfunctioning.  
  
"You there!" Grant snarled at the first technician he saw. The woman turned. Initially, there was a look of annoyance on her face at being addressed so rudely. It disappeared the moment she realized who she was looking at. Without a word, she fell to her knees, tears of sheer terror streaming from her eyes. Grant reached down and yanked her up by her throat, making no effort whatsoever not to hurt her.  
  
"Stop your sniveling and take this." He struck the poor woman in the head with the sharp edge of the scanner, drawing a wicked slash across her pretty forehead. "Get it repaired."  
  
Grant didn't bother to waste another second on the woman, who was bowing low and thanking him for his mercy. He had important business with Eckhart. And that took precedence over everything. Without any regard for those around him, Grant strode down the halls of Eckhart's Citadel. His heavy footsteps echoed like thunder down the path, warning all who walked ahead of him to part like the Red Sea.  
  
Even without his important station, that of Chief Interrogator and Head of the GSS and GSA forces, Grant Van Negus cut an imposing figure. He stood six feet and six inches. His hair was thick and long, traveling down his spine to the cleft in his back; wavy like wheat and the same color, it flowed behind him like an emperor's cape. Thick muscle covered every inch of Grant's body, even his fingers looked supremely strong. His eyes were petrified ice and his lips were stained a deep red, as if drenched with his victim's blood. High cheek bones and a short, hawkish nose made him seem some noble born aristocrat from an ancient time. Regardless of his imperious stride and noble features, Grant's eyes colored him a murderous soldier of Eckhart's regime. No other man, inferior or Neo-Mutant, had eyes like his. At least, not since the day's of Hitler, Stalin, and Mao. And even then, those great leaders of slaughter would have been uneasy around Van Negus.  
  
Walking down the hall, Grant paid little attention to the people around him, for they scattered like so much frightened chattel. His eyes did find themselves roving the lavish paintings and icons that adorned the walls. There were images of his master Eckhart, of course, portrayed here as the savior of mankind, there as a god on high. But the one's that drew Grant's attention were the images of the legendary Mutant X team. He was especially intrigued by the picture of the two members who had never been found.  
  
"Adam and Emma DeLauro," Grant read as he passed the painting by. "How I'd like to bring your heads to Eckhart. He'd make me a provincial ruler at the least."  
  
The idea of ruling an entire country filled with pliant and helpless people made Grant giddy with evil glee.  
  
*****  
  
"Adam, tell me I've gone crazy." Emma begged in the darkness. She turned away from the statue, feeling sick again. "Tell me that's not Eckhart." Her eyes were on Adam, pleading with him. "Please."  
  
Adam shook his head. "Don't think about it, Emma. Once we get to Sanctuary I can find a way to send us back. Then all of this goes away. I'll kill Eckhart before I let this happen." He kept watch on the marble statue, as if expecting it to attack, as they passed it by down the left path.  
  
Together, they walked in silence. Every once in a while, one would stumble. The pain of temporal displacement had drained them horribly. After the fifth such fall, Adam felt something in his chest burning. "I've got to rest." He wheezed out as Emma fell to her knees beside him.  
  
"What can I do?" She asked. Although her own body ached, although she felt weak as a newborn kitten, Emma was selfless. "I don't think we're too far from town. I can get help and come back for you." She started to go.  
  
"Don't." The tone of stern command and dread in Adam's voice stopped her. "We don't know what this future's like. Maybe things haven't changed too much. Maybe its still safe to be a decent human being or new mutant." He paused to take several deep breaths. Sweat beaded his brow and Emma was worried by the chalk-like pallor of his skin. She would have been even more worried, except her own clothes were wet with sweat and her skin felt cold and clammy. "Eckhart may have changed things more than either one of us wants to think." Adam's mouth formed a mirthless smile. "I wonder how he got out of Ashlocke's stasis pod."  
  
Emma shook her head. "Have to chance it Adam. We're both really sick. We need food and a place to sleep. Maybe even medical attention." She felt her chest tightening up, her lungs felt parched. "You know I'm right."  
  
Grudgingly, Adam nodded. "Go. But be careful." He took a breath to say something else but a wave of pain passed through him. His eyes rolled up. The beat of his heart slowed. Adam dropped against a tree trunk.  
  
"Adam!" Emma felt his neck. She found his pulse, slow but steady. It felt weak. "Don't die. Please, you're too good a person to die." Thoughts of looking for help filled Emma's mind, yet she could not leave Adam. She held him in her arms, using her powers to strengthen his natural will to survive. "Stay with me." Her whispers grew more urgent as she felt her own pulse drifting downward. Her vision was beginning to blur.  
  
'I'm dying.' The thought was in both Adam's and Emma's mind. Portia Klein had managed to kill them after all. Emma heard someone shouting from the road, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. She tried to call back, but her face was buried against Adam's neck. 'How did I get here?' Emma wondered just before she drifted into darkness.  
  
*****  
  
Trudie Orion knelt beside the two strangers. "What the hell happened to you two?" She asked, her quiet voice a calm beacon of hope. The girl was unconscious, but the man stirred slightly at her words. He mumbled something. Trudie didn't understand half of what he said, his speech was blurred heavily. She caught four clear words and they were enough to get her moving.  
  
"Emma. . . dying. . . help. . . Eckhart." The last word was spoken with hatred, despite the man's obvious incoherence and terrible pain. He was unconscious again before Trudie could reassure him.  
  
"Don't worry you two," she said as she pulled a small pack of syringes from her shirt pocket, "you're going to be just fine." Trudie removed one needle and inserted it into a tiny bottle of bluish liquid. With practiced ease, she filled it. The syringe automatically forced any air out of itself. She checked the amount, nodded in satisfaction, and injected the blue medicine into Emma.  
  
Moments later, Emma's eyes were fluttering open. She saw Trudie preparing a second syringe for Adam. "Who are you? What are you doing to him?" Her voice cracked and sounded very weak. Trudie turned toward her.  
  
"I'm saving his life. Don't worry, an injection of Blue No.2 always puts a Neo-Mutant back in shape." Trudie lowered the needle to Adam's arm.  
  
"Wait!" Emma croaked out. The other woman turned back to her. "He's not a new mutant. Adam's just a regular human." As the words left her mouth, Emma wondered if she'd just made a terrible mistake. If this woman was helping them because she thought they were new mutants, that could only mean that Eckhart had been overthrown by the good guys. Emma felt nothing but relief for that, but this woman might hate humans out of hand, thinking that all ordinary people are against new mutants.  
  
Trudie blinked in surprise. "A regular human? You mean he's an inferior?" She turned back to Adam. "Weird. He tastes like a Neo-Mutant." Trudie's tongue darted out of her mouth. It was long and forked, exactly like a serpent's. It retreated back between her lips. For a moment, she considered how to proceed. By law, she could leave this inferior to die and not be prosecuted. In fact, she might receive a reward for such an action. Trudie looked down at Adam, then she turned to the Neo-Mutant girl. She looked so concerned for this man. It was strange to see that look of fear displayed on an inferior's behalf.  
  
"Please, help him." Emma said as she felt strength returning to her body. "Adam's my. . . friend." She'd almost said 'leader' but that seemed wrong. There were other things she could have said as well, but they all seemed wrong too. Emma could sense that this new mutant woman wanted to do the right thing. But she didn't seem to be certain what the right thing was. Emma also felt a cold chill as she considered the woman's words. "You mean, he's an inferior?" Those words were spoken so simply and emotionlessly. Mason Eckhart had left a terrible scar on this future, but what the nature of that scar was, Emma was still uncertain.  
  
"I'll help him." Trudie told the girl finally. "But not here. I don't carry anything for inferior's in my medical kit. We'll have to take him back to my apartment." She reached down and lifted Adam onto her shoulders. He was a full grown man and unconscious, but Trudie barely strained herself. "Can you walk?" She asked Emma.  
  
"I think so." Emma responded as she rose to her feet. Whatever that blue medicine had been, it was definitely making her feel better. She took a few steps, shaky at first but ever more stable. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just help Adam."  
  
The Feral, for that was what Trudie was, a serpentine Feral, lead the way to her sleek jeep. She'd parked just off the dirt trail. "I wasn't sure what had happened. I couldn't tell if the two of you'd been attacked by rebels or just enjoying each other's company." She said as she carefully  
set Adam down in the backseat.  
  
Emma turned a little red. She remembered how she'd fallen against Adam. From the outside, it must have looked like a lazy lover's embrace after a passionate embrace. Considering the sweat covering their bodies, that must have seemed the more likely choice. "Why did you stop?" Emma asked as she pulled herself into the passenger seat. She looked back at Adam and sensed that he was still holding on to life. His pulse might even have gotten stronger.  
  
"Something didn't taste right in the air." Trudie said as she started the jeep's engine by pressing her thumb against a plate on the steering column. Her tongue hissed out again from her mouth, as if to help explain. "I'm a Feral obviously." The engine revved to life and they were off, the wind blasting by as they rocketed forward. "Name's Trudie Orion. What's your's?"  
  
"Emma DeLauro." Emma answered without thinking. Suddenly, Trudie jerked the steering wheel sideways and almost went off the trail. She corrected herself at the last minute, sparring all of them a close encounter with a tree. "Was it something I said?" Emma asked in quiet shock.  
  
Trudie's face had gone white. "He's an inferior named Adam and you're a Psionic, a telempath named Emma DeLauro?" She asked in a voice that was awed beyond description.  
  
"Yes. That's us." Emma quietly said. 'Now what have I done?' She thought was Trudie Orion licked her lips, a nervous habit, and started sweating.  
  
"By the blessing of God, our saviors have come back."  
  
  
END OF PART ONE 


	2. The Darkness Before Dawn

Part Two:  
The Darkness Before Dawn  
  
  
In the blackness of midnight, Oliver White moved determinedly forward. Behind him,  
crawling on their bellies like common insects, were Lass Thompson and Terry Pritchett. He  
glanced back, used a series of hand signals more complex than seemed necessary. The other two rebels nodded toward their leader then started moving in opposite directions, each away from him. Oliver needed room to do his dirty work. After a few seconds had passed, long enough to remember and count all the reasons why fighting Eckhart was suicidal, Oliver rose from the ground.  
  
Instantly, four gigantic search lights blazed to life and moved to center him in their bright  
embrace. A cold and mechanical voice echoed across the half mile separating the rebels from  
their objective.   
  
"You are trespassing on Imperial property. The use of deadly force will be authorized in  
twenty seconds." The threat was prerecorded, the passionless growl of a very dangerous  
automated weapons system. Oliver didn't really listen to the machine's words. He was busy, his  
arms moving slowly, his fingers feeling the air molecules around him. Lips parted in what might  
once have been a friendly smile, Oliver brought his hands together and thrust them forward, as if  
heaving an enormous bludgeon at a GS agent's head. A blast of wind roared forward, its force so great that it shattered the four search lights. Something electrical squawked as it was crushed by the concussion force.  
  
"Do it!" He yelled to the right, where Lass Thompson had crawled.  
  
The girl leapt to her feet with inhuman speed and started sprinting, her long blonde hair streaming behind her. As she neared the ten foot electrified fence that surrounded the building, she bunched up her legs and catapulted herself over. Lass' landing was painful and graceless, she struck hard and rolled for six feet before she was back on her toes. Sweat pouring from her skin, blood pounding fiercely within her chest, she headed straight for what had been a glass window.   
Oliver's windstorm had made her part in the mission just a hint easier.  
  
Lass leapt into the room. She wasn't alone. A young man wearing the black coat and  
grey shirt and pants uniform of Eckhart's deadly GSA stood near a weapon's locker. His face  
was too young for a beard but it was old enough for a gaze filled with hatred.  
  
"I'm going to kill you traitor!" He roared as he flung open the locker and reached inside for a weapon.  
  
Without thinking, Lass spun and delivered a round house kick to the man's head. A wet crunching noise filled the room. The GS agent slid to the floor, his eyes wide with shook forever. For a moment, Lass stared at him in stunned shock. Then she was sick on the floor. It took her a few seconds to recover her wits and remember why she was there. "Keep it together girl, don't go wild mare." She muttered, walking toward the back of the room, avoiding the man's body.  
  
Outside, Oliver White was signaling Terry Pritchett. Without hesitation, Pritchett rose to  
his feet and raised his hands to the sky. Energy coursed along his finger tips, building in strength.   
With a shout of delight, he released the power upward, creating a brilliant white ball in the sky.   
The flare lite the field, revealing two GSA commandos who had been sneaking up on Oliver.  
  
Without remorse, Oliver used his Elemental gifts to command the air to press down on the commandos until they were crushed. In the space of only six years, he'd learned never to leave one of Eckhart's killers alive. They never gave quarter and refused to take it. That was the worst thing about the rebellion in truth, fighting these fanatical servants of a megalomaniacal monster. Oliver turned back toward Pritchett.  
  
"Put more heat into that flare! They've got to see it from a few thousand feet straight up!"   
Pritchett responded to the order quickly and easily, only the set of his jaw and the tremble of his  
body showing the effort required to maintain that bright white light. He was only twelve after all.  
  
Inside the complex, Lass Thompson retrieved her assigned target, plus a few spares.   
They'd gotten lucky, only a few of Eckhart's fanatics had been in place. If the base had been fully operational. . . . Lass brushed the thought aside, keeping memories she could not become  
accustomed to out of her conscious mind. She filled her pockets with the spoils of the raid and  
leapt out the window with all the grace of a show pony.  
  
"I've got it!" She screamed out to Oliver and Pritchett. A magnificent leap took her over  
the fence and, once again, into a rolling landing that hurt. Lass gasped in pain as she hit a rock.   
Then, with a snort of determination, she got to her feet and started running.  
  
Overhead, a small jet craft was coming down from the sky, Pritchett's light guiding them.   
Oliver ran over to catch the young boy as his body finally ran out of strength to keep the flare  
going. The jet's own lights blinked into existence, illuminating the ground. A voice blared out of  
an external speaker, scratchy with static but clear enough to make out "company's coming."  
  
Lass shook her head in frustrated worry. "Now what?" She asked Oliver.  
  
"We get the hell out of here and pray our pilot's as good as his ship." Hefting Pritchett's  
unconscious body over his shoulder, Oliver started climbing one of the rope ladders that had been dropped down to them. Lass leapt a few feet to catch another, though without a running start her jump was short. Even before the rebel team was aboard, the pilot started turning the jet around, preparing it for a rapid escape. No one was in the back to help Oliver as he rolled Pritchett onto the floor. Lass managed to beat him onboard and he gladly accepted her help in hauling himself upward and inward. "We're in!" He called toward the front. The bay doors closed rapidly, locking together to form a stable floor. Before any of the rebels could reach a seat, the jet was moving. It dodged right and left, made zig zagging motions, and more than once went into a dive that seemed fatal. The team managed to keep themselves calm by remembering all the times they'd been aboard a flight like this that had come back in one piece.  
  
When they heard the sound of the pilot's voice over the intercom, they all let out sighs of  
relief. "We lost them. ECM module's are working better than we could have expected." The  
faceless voice of the pilot seemingly held no residue of fear, if indeed he had been afraid before.  
  
"Adam and Emma be praised." Lass whispered to herself as she made the sign of the  
cross over her heart.  
  
Oliver snorted. "Those two weren't saints you know."  
  
"Maybe not," Lass grumbled as she ran a hand through her hair, "but they were good and  
decent people that tried to stop Eckhart."  
  
"And where exactly did your two 'good and decent' little friends disappear to then? Why  
did they just up and leave?" Oliver spoke more harshly than he meant to and he would apologize  
later. For now, he returned to the mission. "You found them?"  
  
"Several of them." Reaching into her pockets, Lass Thompson pulled out five vials of a  
greenish brown liquid. "A lot of people are going to live to see another year thanks to us." She  
said with a quiet smile.  
  
Oliver closed his eyes and let out a long, exhausted breath. Collapsing into a seat with the  
tired carriage of an old man, he looked down at Pritchett, still unconscious. Then he turned to  
Lass and saw the haunted darkness in her eyes, the mark of a soldier. "You say that as if it were a good thing."  
  
*****  
  
The night passed in a brooding silence. Nightmares kept Adam from resting, until Emma  
lent him a measure of peace by focusing his mind on sweet memories of both their times with  
Mutant X. Birthdays, friendly chats and games, even moments of banter and argument kept the  
horrors of this brave new world at bay. Emma watched Adam sleep for what seemed like hours.   
She was still worried about his condition, even though Trudie Orion had given him a double  
injection of medicine. From the way their new friend had spoken, the clear ooze wasn't nearly as  
effective as the Blue No.2 used to heal Neo-Mutants. So Emma watched over Adam, as she  
knew he would have done for her.  
  
"You look so peaceful when you're asleep." The whisper barely made it past Emma's  
lips. She blinked, her tired eyes starting to slid shut regardless of her efforts to keep them open.   
A yawn forced its way out of her. Her eyes went to Adam once more. She watched the way his  
chest rhythmically rose and fell, the way his eyes moved beneath his lids, even how his lips  
pressed together fascinated her. "Like your trying to figure out a problem." Emma mused as she  
finally succumbed to sleep, believing that she wouldn't wake up to find Adam gone.  
  
Hours passed, Adam sleeping deeply and restfully on the bed, Emma a dozen feet away,  
stretched out on Trudie's spare cot. In the apartment's living room, their host was wide awake,  
going through historical records over the Internet. She'd been working nonstop since managing  
to convince Emma DeLauro to rest with her friend. Trudie paused, a document loading  
excessively slowly. "I saved the lives of Adam and Emma DeLauro." She muttered to herself,  
awe coloring every word. Even now, it was hard for her to believe.  
  
Trudie picked up a cup of steaming coffee and drained it. A musical ding drew her  
attention to the computer screen. Flashing in the upper left hand corner was a mailbox icon. She  
double clicked it. One new message appeared. Trudie read it carefully, memorized everything of  
importance, then deleted it. "Tomorrow, four, the old school on West Chester Street." Certain  
that she'd remember, Trudie went back to her search. By the time the sun was rising, she was in  
tears and felt even more strongly that she had done an amazing thing by saving Adam and Emma.   
The computer powered down. "I saved the last two members of Mutant X." She said with a  
smile.  
  
*****  
  
"Excuse me, sir?" At the sound of the weak and nervous voice, Grant Van Negus glanced  
up from the mountain of paperwork he was filling out. Unlike most of life's annoyances, Grant  
couldn't just kill the forms. This little messenger though. . . . 'No,' he thought as an odd little  
twitch, almost like a phantom smile, gritted his teeth. 'This messenger is too cute to kill.'  
  
"What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?" Grant grumbled, though in a slightly warmer voice  
than he might have used. The woman, sensing that he wasn't going to tear her apart, visibly  
relaxed. She reached into her black coat and withdrew a standard issue scanner. As she passed it toward him, Grant felt twinge of recognition. "What's this about?" He asked. Then he noticed a dark rusty colored stain at the sharp corner. A twisted smile formed on his face. "So, they fixed my scanner."  
  
The woman coughed. "Not exactly, sir. There's nothing wrong with it." Grant started to  
rise from his chair. At six and six he would have towered over the messenger. Even his hair was  
more imposing, long and wheat colored while her black mop didn't get past her ears. Then he  
froze at her next words. "Neither were the other fifty-seven scanners brought into for repair."   
Grant sat back down. The woman seemed very pleased with herself as she continued. "All of  
them registered two sudden appearances of Neo-Mutant energy signatures. One GSA operative  
maintained surveillance on the off chance that it might be real." She stopped.  
  
"Go on." Grant requested after a minute, acknowledging her temporary superiority in the  
moment. It was a custom of sorts, for a superior officer to grant a subordinate respect beyond  
rank when they had especially useful information. Often, Grant enjoyed toying with fools who  
thought they knew more about Eckhart's Empire than he did. Now, for once truly faced with a  
more knowledgeable soul, he found the custom oddly satisfying in its own right.  
  
Besides, he enjoyed the sound of this woman's voice.  
  
Again, the messenger let herself smile. Perhaps she could sense the Chief Inquisitor's  
interest in her. More likely, she was simply savoring her brief moment of power. "The energy  
signals changed after a while. One seemed to maintain Neo-Mutant status, but more unstable than  
usual. The other however—."  
  
She was interrupted by the blaring of the intercom. Van Negus favored her with a smile,  
which eased her annoyed expression away. "This will take just a moment." He pressed the  
control. "Chief Interrogator Van Negus speaking."  
  
"Grant. I want to talk to you in my office. Now." The voice on the other end of the  
intercom froze Grant Van Negus' blood. He felt as if a thousand tiny electrodes were stinging his  
flesh. For a moment, an image of white walls and pulsing lights filled his mind. Echoes of a  
memory buried deep in his soul, quickly dismissed and easily forgotten.  
  
"As you command." Grant bowed slightly at his desk, though the caller could neither hear  
him nor see him. The intercom was dead. He turned to the messenger, who's lovely pink skin  
was now a dull chalk white. "I trust you'll understand if I leave you now?" She nodded  
vigorously. "Come to my mansion tonight after you're done working. We'll discuss matters  
then." Grant handed her his spare electronic key card and left her in his office.  
  
Everything had to be put on hold when Mason Eckhart called.  
  
*****  
  
Adam woke as sunlight slipped into the room. Blinking away the veil of rest, he rose.   
With the exception of a few dull aches, he felt better than he had in years. While he'd been  
sleeping, his mind had been considering all of the possible explanations for the sudden collapse of  
his and Emma's biological functions. "Our bodies must have been reacting to the extreme stress  
of temporal displacement. I'll have to work out a serum to counteract the effects before we go  
back." Adam turned back to look at Emma, who was soundly sleeping. A smile found its way to his face. "Thanks for watching over me." He whispered, for he knew that his sweet dreams had been Emma's creation.  
  
As Adam passed by a mirror, he realized just how disheveled and dirty he looked. When  
he'd collapsed on the trail, he hadn't had the time to find a nice patch of bare ground. He'd fallen  
atop a mess of rotting leaves. Adam frowned remorsefully when he looked at the bed he'd just  
left. The sheets would have to be replaced immediately. Apparently, neither Emma nor their  
savior had wanted to undress him. The stench of unwashed human was thick in the air. Adam  
started to look for the bathroom, and caught sight of a note pinned to the wall.  
  
"Dear Emma and Adam," the note read in a fluid script, far more stylized than Adam was  
used to. "I had to meet someone in town about getting the two of you Imperial ID. Don't  
hesitate to raid the fridge or use the shower. I'll be back later tonight. If you get bored, there's a  
vidcard reader in my study." At the very bottom of the note was a signature printed in such a way that it resembled a computer printout. "Your Friend, Trudie Orion; 21st Medical"  
  
"So that's her name." Adam said as he pinned the note back to the wall. His eyes glanced  
down at his filthy clothes. "Shower and a change of clothes. Then I work on getting to Sanctuary  
and Mutant X." Undressing as he walked, Adam moved down a long hallway, glancing in rooms  
until he found the lavish bathroom.  
  
In addition to a shower big enough for a football team, there was a long porcelain counter  
with three sinks, a commode with gilded designs and a soft matted seat, floor and walls covered in a mosaic of expensive looking tile, and as a crowning achievement, a washer and dryer were built into the wall. Adam gaped at the luxury. Either Trudie Orion was extremely wealthy, or this new world was very kind to new mutants.  
  
Adam finished undressing and stepped into the shower. As warm water washed away  
sweat and grime, his thoughts started to return to Emma. Memories of the battle with Portia  
Klein and her equally dangerous fiance Darius Monaco began to flood his thoughts. Emma  
wasn't supposed to be there. He'd sent her out on a solo mission to help restore another  
Psionic's mind. When she'd appeared on the scene, knocking Darius down with a mind blast,  
Adam had felt a surge of pride. He'd known from the very moment that he met her, that Emma  
DeLauro was something special, and not just in terms of her abilities. Adam closed his eyes and  
kept his head under the warm spray of water. Portia's attack had been meant for Emma. If he  
hadn't tried to block it, she might have ended up in this dark future alone.  
  
For reasons he didn't understand, he didn't regret his actions at all. He was in the middle  
of his worst nightmare, and yet, he wasn't sorry to be there. "Wonder why." Adam muttered to  
himself. One possibility kept whispering in his ear, but he couldn't accept it and sought another.  
  
Adam stayed in the shower thinking for a long time.  
  
  
In the bedroom, Emma let out a whimper in her sleep. "No. Get away." She twisted on  
the cot, going first one way and then the other. Her hands were clenched in fists and her feet  
kicked as if she were running from something. "Adam? Shalimar?" Her words were faint and  
fuzzy, fear filling them with ominous portent. "Jesse? Brennan? No, no." Emma heaved  
sideways, almost falling off the cot. Her right arm jerked. In her dream, she was fighting  
something or someone. "No, Adam. Someone, help me please!" Emma's words were harsh and urgent, but she was too deeply asleep to be awakened by her own voice. "Help me! Adam!  
ADAM!" Emma practically screamed out in her nightmare. Still, she was locked into the  
dreadful dream as a prisoner chained to a wall.  
  
Suddenly, the bedroom door flew open and Adam appeared, a towel wrapped around his  
waist. He went straight to Emma. He'd heard her shouting. Looking around the room, he  
realized that she wasn't being attacked, only dreaming about it. "Emma, wake up! Emma!"   
Adam reached out and held her trembling shoulder. He shook her gently, his voice working  
through the dark haze of the nightmare. "Emma, its Adam! Wake up!"  
  
Emma's eyes flew open and she rose violently, knocking Adam off balance. She let out a  
scream and her arms came up in a defensive posture. Breathing rapidly, she looked about the  
room, wondering what was happening. When she saw Adam, she let out a chocking noise and  
threw her arms around him. "Oh Adam! I thought you were dead!" Emma sobbed as she held  
her friend tightly, her face pressing against his chest.  
  
"It's alright Emma, it was a bad dream. Nothing more." Adam said as his hand slowly  
smoothed Emma's hair, his fingers tracing the skin of her neck. He leaned down so that her head  
could rest on his shoulder. "It was a bad dream." He repeated softly. Gently, he kept caressing  
the back of her head, down the soft curve of her neck, to her bare shoulders. The warmth of  
Emma's breath against his skin, the feel of her in his arms, the way her right hand twirled fingers  
in his short hand while her left wrapped around him, made Adam nervous.  
  
"It was horrible." Emma's voice was still chocked with dread and muffled by tears that  
were slowly coming. Her heart pounded in her chest. It felt like every nerve in her body was on  
fire. "We were in Sanctuary and everyone was dead." Putting the nightmare in words seemed to  
make her even more upset, for her voice broke in several places. "It was horrible." She said  
again, her arms tightening around Adam. Only his comforting presence brought her fear and  
sadness under control.  
  
Calmer now, Emma became aware of how she was pressed against Adam's body. From  
the waist up, he was naked and still damp from a bath. The feeling of his chest against her's, the  
feel of his every breath and heartbeat against her breasts, brought a soft sigh from Emma's lips.   
She smelled the clean scent of Adam's hair and of his skin. She felt his breath on her shoulders,  
for she wore only an oversize sweat shirt of Trudie's, its neck wide and open. Fear, so recent and dark, was gone from her. The feeling that replaced it wasn't easily named, but Emma liked it. "Thanks Adam." She said warmly.  
  
"I don't deserve your thanks." Adam said as he pulled away from Emma's embrace. He  
started to walk away, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Turning, he found himself staring  
into Emma's eyes. There was an undeniable affection there. Adam felt ever more guilty for what  
he'd done. "I was having the same nightmare before you eased my mind." He said before she  
could ask. "Its my fault that you had to suffer through it. Its all my fault." Adam sat down on the  
edge of the bed, all the strength flooding out of him. "My fault." He whispered sadly.  
  
Emma sat down beside him, one hand pulling the sweatshirt she wore down to keep her  
lower body covered. "Adam, its not your fault. None of this is." Her voice was so certain that  
Adam turned to her, a faintly desperate light in his eyes.  
  
"I gave you that nightmare. I created the subdermal governors. I created the pods." There  
was a deep sadness in Adam's voice that made Emma's heart ache. "I'm responsible for every  
new mutant's death, for every person's death at the hands of a new mutant, and for every thing  
Mason Eckhart has done. Its all my fault." Adam waved an arm wide to encompass the dark  
future he and Emma were caught in. "This whole world is my fault."  
  
"Adam," Emma's voice was forcefully but soft and comforting, "everything you've done,  
was done with good intentions. I know that doesn't really mean anything, but it's the truth. You  
did what you did for all the right reasons, even if it turned out bad in the end." She reached out  
and took Adam's hand, squeezed it reassuringly. "You made the governors and the pods for a  
purpose, to protect the world from a monster. And so what if Mason Eckhart gained control of  
them? No matter what you or anyone else did in that situation, Eckhart was still going to benefit.  
You wanted to stop Gabriel and at the same time, you wanted to help him. You wanted to give  
him a chance to change, to not be a monster anymore." Emma reached out with her free hand and touched Adam's cheek, keeping his eyes on her. "Everything you've ever done, was done to help people. You created new mutants to save lives and to make the world better. Maybe my life might have been safer if I was just a normal person, but it wouldn't a life worth living. You gave me a great gift and a family with Mutant X. You've done more for me than anyone else. I don't blame you for the bad things, I just thank you for the good." Emma leaned forward. She kissed Adam's cheek softly. "Thank you." With a sweet smile, she rose and walked out of the room, disappearing into the bathroom.  
  
For a long time, Adam sat without moving, like a statue covered in ice. Then, one hand  
went to his cheek, still warm from Emma's kiss. "No Emma," he whispered in the empty room,  
"I should be thanking you." Adam stood up and shivered, noticing only now how cold the  
bedroom was and how nearly naked he was in it.  
  
*****  
  
The Citadel rose from the land like a black tumor on the world. Its central tower bristled  
with deadly weapons designed to devastate any airborne or ground based assault with brutal  
efficiency. Only once had the rebels dared to assault the dark bastion of Eckhart's unholy regime. The slaughter worked by the Citadel's defenses had taken more than a year to clean up. Standing in the mile long shadow of Eckhart's home, Grant Van Negus felt nearly terror stricken. He worked at the ancestral home of the GSA, a building that resembled a school rather than a  
fortress. But no one could ever think of the Citadel as anything but a murder machine.  
  
At the central gate, facing North at a near dead reckoning, a guard in the pure white  
uniform of Eckhart's Imperial Guards stopped Van Negus to check his identification. Grant knew the solider from years ago. Each had entered the training camps as children. Yet, the other  
examined Grant's ID with a deadly serious precision and watched the man himself with a  
relentless suspicion. Years as one of Eckhart's guardians could turn even the most trusting man  
into one who sees conspiracy at every turn. Even with Grant's identity verified, he did little more  
than shake his hand and send him through the gates. Before he reached the true entrance to the  
Citadel, the grand door to the central tower, Grant was stopped and checked a dozen times.  
  
It was to be expected. The Emperor had to be kept safe. Without him, the Empire of  
Supremacy might crumble before a successor could be found. Even now, Eckhart had no children or wife, deeming them pointlessly time-consuming. Grant often wondered if he would end up the same way, for he longed for love and a family, more so since he had been forced to kill his own parents for their part in a rebel raid. His thoughts ended as he encountered one final guard between him and his master, a woman in white with eyes like steel, cold and unyielding.  
  
"Hail Eckhart, Emperor of us all." Grant raised his right hand out, fist clenched, at a  
perfect 45 degree angle from his body. Years of training had made the action thoughtless and  
automatic. "Chief Interrogator Van Negus reporting as commanded."  
  
"Proceed Chief Interrogator." The woman's icy voice seemed mechanical. When her face  
transformed into something resembling circuit boards, Van Negus understood. An electronic lock of unparalleled sophistication sprung, the vast door of the Citadel's tower opened. "Hail  
Eckhart!" The Telecyber said, now with a frightening passion, as her face became human once  
more.  
  
Grant entered the tower. As he walked toward Eckhart's office, he found himself drawn  
to a room just off the main hall, a room with a white door plated with ivory. A memory fought its  
way up from the murk of Grant's mind, a memory of screaming torment in a room of white. He  
shook his head, dismissing the memory with ease. "On to Eckhart." He said in a voice as cold as the woman's outside.  
  
The door to Eckhart's office was open. "Come in." The voice from within was suffused  
with self-assuredness and power. Grant entered and immediately went to his belly on the floor,  
prostrating himself before the Supreme Emperor. In that position, he was perfectly vulnerable.   
Eckhart could easily kill him. Grant remained on the floor just the same.  
  
"Rise." Eckhart said in a voice that was old but vital. "I have an assignment for you  
Grant."  
  
Van Negus stood before his master, his head bowed slightly. "I will do as you command."   
He paused. "May I ask the nature of the assignment?"  
  
Mason Eckhart smiled. "For a Chief Interrogator, your quite cautious about asking  
questions." He laughed as Van Negus went red with embarrassment. "I want you to take care of a problem that has recently returned."  
  
And with those words, Grant Van Negus became Eckhart's lethal weapon against his most  
hated enemy. Tonight, Mutant X would be destroyed.  
  
  
END OF PART TWO 


	3. The Thief In The Night

Part Three:  
The Thief In The Night  
  
  
A faint breeze wafted around Trudie Orion as she walked into the abandoned highschool on West Chester Street. She  
pulled her coat tight, adjusting the heated liner to maximum warmth. "There are times when being a cold-blooded Feral is  
frustrating." Her whispers seemed to die in front of her face. The halls of the highschool stretched before Trudie, empty and  
desolate, like the interior of some ancient ritual temple.  
  
Littering the path before her were the shredded remains of books. Thousands of books, their covers rendered unreadable  
by dust and filth, were stacked in columns against the walls. Trudie held up flashlight close to one and blew the dust away.   
"History of the United States of America, 1800-1900." She read carefully, for her flashlight was very weak, its glow barely   
an ember.  
  
Trudie frowned in uncertainty. "What are the United States of America?" She thought her parents had talked about them  
once, but that had been a long time ago. Trudie shrugged. "How important could they have been if no one remembers them  
now?"  
  
Walking deeper into the old highschool, Trudie began to feel as if she were being watched. The hairs on back of her neck   
felt prickly and a sudden rush of fear filled her body. She flicked out her forked tongue, tasting the air. Then she smiled.   
"You can come out now Mack. Its just me."  
  
"What do you want from me now? I've got other business besides you, you know?" The voice came from inside an open   
classroom. Trudie looked in and saw a tall, thin man dressed in a long overcoat. His head was bald and the beard he wore   
was cropped close to his skin. There was a haunted look in his eyes. A long scar stretched from his left temple down into   
the neck of his shirt. "You said you needed two ID cards today? What's the rush?"  
  
"Can you make a statement? Enough with the questions." Trudie walked up to Mack and pulled out a bundle of papers   
from her coat. "Here. These are the vital statistics of some friends of mine who need to disappear. Can you help?"  
  
Mack took the papers from Trudie and looked over them, not bothering to ask for her flashlight. "I think so. I've got a few   
identities ready that they could play." He paused to take a cigarette out of his pocket. "That is, assuming they don't intend   
to split up any time soon." A lighter seemed to appear in Mack's hand and he quickly lit his cigarette. He kept his eyes   
closed as long as the flame was alive.  
  
"Still adjusting to your growth spurt?" Trudie asked with a sardonic smirk. Mack breathed in deeply from his cigarette   
before blowing a little ring toward Trudie. She waved it away as he laughed.   
  
"Yeah. Being able to see clear as noon in the darkness is nice. But I've got to turn it off or I'll never see real sunlight ever   
again." He frowned and pointed at the faint glow of Trudie's flashlight. "And turn that thing off, it's giving me a monster   
headache. Too bright. Like a damn halogen on steroids."  
  
Trudie sighed and switched off the flashlight, plummeting herself into deep blackness. "Work fast." She said as a frosty   
draft brushed by her. She hugged herself tightly to try and hold in all of her coat's artificial warmth.  
  
Nodding sympathetically, Mack went to work. He took the information Trudie had brought him, plugged it into a computer   
with a screen so dark that only Mack could really see it, and started working on a plastic false ID card. In a few seconds,   
the computer was ready to print out two new lives for Adam and Emma. Each card had to be signed by the master forger,   
laminated, and then given a proper seal. He worked slowly but steadily, insuring that every detail was in order before   
advancing to the next step.  
  
While Mack worked, Trudie considered telling the older man who it was that he was saving, the legendary Adam and Emma DeLauro. But, as she shivered painfully, it occurred to her how dangerous that might be. If Mack were ever caught by the   
GSA, he'd be tortured relentlessly by the Chief Interrogator Van Negus. Trudie flinched involuntarily at the mere thought of   
that evil man. He was a bogeyman, a phantom nightmare, seen only when the worst of things were about.  
  
Trudie had seen Van Negus when she was seven. He was twelve and already a part of the Eckhart Youths and an   
Agent-In-Training for the GSA. She remembered him pointing a gun at her father and pulling the trigger. She remembered   
her mother's screams cut short by another thunderclap of exploding gun powder. Most of all, Trudie remembered his   
smugly superior voice saying "take their girl to an orphanage, she's useful to the Empire, unlike her inferior parents."  
  
"You want these or not?" Mack asked loudly, shaking Trudie out of her memories. He held two Imperial ID cards before   
her eyes, waving them back and forth. To Trudie's eyes, they were perfect fakes.  
  
"Thank you." Trudie took the cards and pocketed them without hesitation. Then she pulled a different card from her coat.   
"Here's my account card. Leave me enough for gas."  
  
"I make no promises."  
  
*****  
  
On the frozen tundra of Siberia lay the city of Secession. During the terrible war against Eckhart's invading army of new   
mutants, Russia had utilized Siberia as a primary staging ground. Even now, close to twenty-five full years after the war,   
bodies still lay out in the frozen waste, awaiting the spark of life or the trumpet's final blow to awaken them.  
  
"I hate this place." Oliver White muttered as he stood watch high in a guard tower, hoping not to see an enemy fighter jet in   
the sky.  
  
"Me too." Lass Thompson grumbled beside him, her long hair billowing nicely in the blood freezing wind. "How long until   
we're relieved?" She adjusted a radar scanner to filter out the blizzard that was threatening to cover Secession in even more   
ice and snow.  
  
Oliver snorted. "We just came on duty." He double checked a suspicious readout on his scanners. After a moment, he   
was satisfied that it wasn't a problem. Absently, he brushed a buildup of ice and snow from his coat sleeves. "How was   
Pritchett doing? I heard you visited him in the infirmary." He asked as he turned toward Lass.  
  
"Stable." Lass said without adding any further information. Her eyes were focused on her screens, though there was nothing  
important there. A slight tension was detectable in the pulse at her throat.  
  
After a few moments of cold silence, Oliver let out a low sigh. "I'm sorry about what I said. You know, about Adam and   
Emma." He rubbed his sore neck muscles, shivered a little from the cold that managed to permeate his heated coat. A faint  
smile formed on his face. "You did really good back there."  
  
"You really think so?" Lass turned toward him, always keeping one eye on her monitor. Her face was warmed into a grin.   
She brushed a lock of her long blonde hair back from her eyes. "Were the supplies viable? Everyone's doing better now,   
right?" A little worry crept into her voice.  
  
"Everyone's as good as can be expected." Oliver slumped in his seat. "Damn Eckhart and his plagues. As if we didn't have   
enough trouble without people dying of diseases."  
  
Before Lass could respond, her monitor started chirping loudly. She gave it her full attention and started hitting controls.   
"Incoming bomber squadron! Eckhart's found us!"  
  
Even as Oliver hit the alarm, an explosion of fire bloomed in the ice garden of Secession. Winter suddenly disintegrated into  
a ravenous hell on Earth. The tower buckled suddenly, throwing Lass and Oliver against the low metal railing. Screams of   
jet engines filled the night as hundreds of planes appeared overhead, raining death from above. Oliver raised his hands to the   
sky and created a shield of buffering wind. Bombs were deflected, though they struck all around the tower. Each rumble   
made the weakened structure shudder like an old doddering man with a cane and peg legs.  
  
Oliver summoned all of his strength and started sending bombs back at their attackers. All over Secession, other rebels   
counterattacked, trying desperately to save the lives of their loved ones. The bombers weren't being specific about targets,   
which gave some Neo-Mutants and their inferior dependents a fighting chance of survival. Still, Oliver saw a barrack go up   
in flame and there a weapons cache. Only a few would make it through this hellish night. Before he knew if he and Lass   
were going to be among the survivors, an electrical discharge from the shattered scanners put Oliver down as easily as a jolt   
of lightening. His last memory was of the guard tower sagging again, this time in a final crumbling fall toward the frozen   
ground.  
  
*****  
  
Emma DeLauro sat in the bathroom, quietly thinking about what had just happened. She'd been having a nightmare. Adam,   
hearing her screaming out in her sleep, had raced into the bedroom to help her. The image of him wrapped in a towel and   
nothing else was difficult to ignore. For reasons that made her very uncomfortable, Emma could not stop thinking about how   
Adam had looked. And the feeling of his skin. The smell of his wet hair.  
  
"Emma, what's the matter with you?" She asked herself. "Adam's just a friend, not to mention your leader. And he's   
older." They were rational words; she didn't really believe them though.  
  
Breathing deeply, Emma shivered slightly. Her bare skin was still wet from the shower. "Get dressed, walk out there, and   
just act normal. Play it cool." She rubbed her arms and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed slightly. She   
could still see Adam in her mind. "Just relax. Relax and breath deep and mediate and whatever else you need to do."   
Emma inhaled the moist air and let out a slow sigh. "Get dressed."  
  
Emma borrowed one of Trudie's outfits, since the two of them were relatively close to each other in size. The top was a bit snug and the pants were bordering on skin tight. Emma examined herself in the mirror. She looked very good. Her curves   
were accentuated, especially the swell of her hips, while the top's deep neckline gave her a nice amount of cleavage. "Not   
bad." Emma said as she stretched. "I'll bet I'd even turn Adam's head. . ."  
  
Her eyes went wide as she realized exactly why she'd chosen this particular outfit of Trudie's. "I'm insane. That's the only   
explanation." Emma muttered as she started undressing. "Yes, that's right DeLauro; you're out of your freaking mind." She   
paused, a quirky grin on her face. "That would actually explain a lot." Quickly, she switched into a far more conservative   
outfit of Trudie's.  
  
"Much better. Saner even." Emma muttered as she examined herself in the mirror. She was clad now in a blue button up blouse with a series of artful designs embroidered in gold and a knee length black dress with the same designs and a slit on the right side. The outfit was complemented by a pair of black boots and a lovely snake skin belt someone must have given   
Trudie as a joke. Emma smiled before she really looked at herself. She'd left the top three buttons of the blouse undone,   
leaving a deep neckline showing plenty of cleavage. And the slit in the dress was higher than she'd thought, plus she was   
standing in a way that really showed off her long legs. "Okay. I'm still crazy."  
  
  
  
In the den, Adam sat before a vidcard reader, watching a film on the birth of Eckhart's empire. Second by second, he was   
getting ever more disturbed. According to the history, Genomex came out with cures for virtually every form of cancer   
known to exist as well as hundreds of other diseases. Adam noted the date, about two years after he and Emma   
disappeared.   
  
"It took Shalimar and others that long to stop Gabriel Ashlocke. Once Ashlocke was gone, Mason managed to free himself and take back command of the GSA. Then he used the company to create all of those cures. Diabolical, it made Eckhart   
and Genomex look like heros. They must have been able to demand anything and get it with that kind of public support."  
  
But, Adam soon found, there had been a hidden agenda within the hidden agenda of the cures. Derived from DNA and   
RNA re-sequencing retro viruses, the cures transformed millions into Neo-Mutants, a more stable and ultimately more   
powerful breed of new mutants. Faced with the sudden transformations, chaos spread across the country, until the GSA   
appeared to save the day. They captured hundreds of thousands of Neo-Mutants and rehabilitated them into GS agents.   
That took three years.  
  
"Rehabilitated. More like brainwashed." Adam reread the passages. "That's strange, there's no mention of America or the President. Eckhart couldn't have erased history that completely, could he?" Adam soon realized that, indeed, Eckhart had managed to make humanity forget about the free nations of the world. America, Canada, Russia, Britain, Germany, France, all had ceased to exist. The people who tried to keep the world's history alive had been executed or 'rehabilitated' until no one was left who dared oppose Eckhart. That period of unified obedience lasted for seven years. Then, a rebel movement formed. Neo-Mutants rose against Eckhart and tried to storm his citadel.  
  
"Thousands died, but they didn't give up. They retreated and formed rebel strongholds overseas. Flashforward another fifteen years to present day, and their still in existence, slowly being ground down by Eckhart's superior forces." Adam felt   
sick. "Thirty years. Emma and I have been gone for thirty years."  
  
A sound from behind him made Adam turn around. He took in a breath. Emma DeLauro stood in a doorway, leaning   
against the frame. She was dressed in her third choice of outfits, a very conservative semi-formal black dress with a vest   
with green and red flower designs. The dressed reached almost to her ankles and long sleeves reached to her wrists. It was   
buttoned up to her neck.  
  
Adam smiled and said "you look beautiful Emma." He'd intended to say "you look nice." A faint blush formed on Emma's   
face and she smiled warmly. Her reaction made Adam smile too, though he hesitated to accept the reasons why. Emma   
was his friend and a teammate. It didn't seem right to think of her as a beautiful woman.  
  
"Great, I'm still crazy." Emma muttered to herself.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Adam wasn't sure he'd heard her right.  
  
"Never mind. What are you looking at?" Emma stepped closer, but before she could see the horrors of this future laid out in   
all of their glory, Adam pressed a switch and turned off the reader. When she reached down to turn it back on, he seized   
her hand gently. With a surprising tenderness, he stopped her.  
  
Adam looked up at Emma. Her face was close to his because she had leaned down in anticipation of watching the same film   
Adam had been perusing. Now, they each stared into the other's eyes, as if spellbound. Perhaps they were in a trance, one   
that neither wanted to escape from. No words were said. Neither looked away. Silently, and without any outside   
encouragement, they leaned closer, so that only a scant few inches separated them. Emma's heart pounded, Adam's breath was a long sigh. She licked her lips. He reached up and touched her cheek softly. Something amazing was about to happen.  
  
The front door to the apartment flew open. "Hey guys! I'm back with your ID cards!" Trudie Orion yelled as she   
practically flew into her apartment. By the time she reached her den, Adam and Emma had been startled out of their trance.   
Each was now sitting in chairs a full six feet apart. Trudie grinned at them and held up their new lives. "Is my timing perfect   
or what?"  
  
Adam said nothing, but Emma grumbled under her breath. Trudie wasn't sure, but she had a feeling the Psionic had said "or what."  
  
  
  
Very little time passed inside Trudie's apartment between the arrival of Trudie Orion herself and the arrival of Grant Van Negus. Unlike her, Grant chose to move in subtle silence. His troops positioned themselves rapidly. Four killers were on the roof, attaching repelling lines. Four more waited on the ground level, armed with subdermal governor launchers. Van   
Negus himself stood in a group of five agents, each armed with automatic rifles. The deadly imperial phalanx had been   
gathered by Eckhart's order. All were members of Eckhart's Imperial Guard, all were dressed in pure white uniforms.  
  
Only one of the soldiers stood out from the rest. She was barely sixteen, if that. Her hair was the color of bloodstained   
straw. Eyes, mouth, and nose were tiny and pointed, giving her face a decidedly pinched look. Frowning exaggerated the   
problem almost to the point of hilarity. Yet this woman served as Van Negus' second in command. Her role was observer   
to the mayhem that was about to occur. Her Neo-Mutant gifts allowed her to transmit sensory data across vast distances to   
a receiving host, as well as receive orders from said host.  
  
This woman was not just a girl in the garments of a solider, she was an extension of Mason Eckhart's vengeful wrath.  
  
"The Emperor commands that we fully secure the perimeter before striking. He does not want even the slightest chance to   
exist for Adam or Emma to escape." The girl spoke in a voice far too serene and melodic for the moment.  
  
Grant frowned. Something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. He had been preparing for this moment most of his   
life. His time in the Eckhart Youth's, the reeducation he'd received to make him a better soldier, the blood on his hands, all   
for this single instant. Grant Van Negus desired power and the Emperor had promised him immense power if he succeeded.  
  
Strangely, as Van Negus ordered the white clad soldiers, he felt a memory tickling his conscious mind. Flashing lights, pain, and white walls. "What does it mean?" Grant murmured to himself.  
  
The pinch faced girl turned to him. "It means that the Emperor will soon crush all opposition before him, like a true god among mortal scum." Her eyes raged with fanatical fury. In this moment, Van Negus saw her as something inhuman, not as something inherently superior to 'normal' humans. She was a Neo-Mutant, one of the second generation. She was deadly and powerful. And she was a monster. "When the Emperor ascends to his rightful place in heaven, he will carry us all with him. It will be a day of glory beyond imagining. All hail Emperor Eckhart, savior of us all!"  
  
All around, the soldiers raised their voices. They weren't concerned with being detected. The apartment complex Trudie   
Orion lived in had long ago been renovated with auditory bafflers to prevent late night traffic or soaring jets to offend the   
sensitive ears of Neo-Mutants. All the soldiers cheered for their master, all save one.  
  
Grant Van Negus stood as silent as death, his eyes glued to the building. "I do not count my victories until they are won. No   
true servant of the Emperor's will would dare such a thing. Does it not read in the holy books that we must 'hope for the   
best, yet plan for the worst'?"  
  
The girl glared at him, but after a time she nodded. "You are right. Eckhart be praised, for his wisdom over flows the cup of my soul." She bowed before Van Negus, not a true prostration, for only the Emperor received such, but even her simple bending at the waist was a sign of true respect.  
  
Bowing in return, Grant smiled. "We serve the same master. You are to be praised for your union with the Emperor, even if it is only in the sense of experience." The words were the right ones for the moment. They pleased the girl who was an   
extension of Eckhart by her own choice. Yet, at the same time, they helped to shield Grant Van Negus from revealing   
something. His mind was becoming more alive with memories of a white room. A nervousness and a strangely hollow   
feeling were slowly filling him. It was as if he were being burdened somehow, but by what he didn't know. In the memory,   
he did sense a revelation coming.  
  
Grant shook his head. There would be time for contemplation later. "Roof top forces, prepare to strike. Detainment   
forces, backup them up." He thought for a moment, considering the strategy that was simple yet elegant in his mind. "Kill   
squad split into two units and prepare to take the stairwells on either side of the apartment. On my signal, we blow the   
elevators and strike." Grant turned to the girl beside him.  
  
Her eyes seemed far away. She was sending Eckhart all that she could hear, feel, taste, smell, and see. Like a living piece of scientific equipment, she procured data and sent them to her master.  
  
A disturbing feeling of disgust almost caused Grant to shoot her with the pistol he had drawn from his shoulder holster. It was an old weapon, a gift long ago for joining the Eckhart Youths. He still remembered what the local chapter leader said   
as he placed the weapon in his hands. "This gun has killed an inferior. It has been baptized by blood. If you are a true   
servant of the Empire of Supremacy and Emperor Mason Eckhart, you will use it to kill any traitor you encounter."  
  
He planned to use the pistol on Trudie Orion.  
  
  
  
Inside the apartment, Emma DeLauro was calmly looking over her new ID card when a small machine on Trudie's desk   
began to buzz. As she turned to look at it, Trudie stopped explaining to Adam the importance of the cards. Her eyes went   
to the machine. She took three steps toward her desk, pressed a button on the machine, and then turned chalk white when it   
started to beep. The beeping noise grew louder and more rapid with every passing second.  
  
"It's the GSA." Trudie said in a voice gone cold with terror. She turned toward Adam and Emma. "You've got to get out of here. Come with me." Before either could argue, Trudie was rushing out of the den and deeper into the vast apartment.  
  
Emma was just behind Adam, who was wordlessly following Trudie. The Feral stopped at a door and quickly pulled a key   
from her pocket to unlock it. "I don't get it. What are you so afraid of? The GSA barely qualify as annoying." Emma said   
as she watched Trudie fumbling with the lock.  
  
"Maybe in your time they were lightweights. But in the here and now, the GSA are second only to Eckhart's Imperial   
Guards. The GSA are lethal soldiers, merciless killers." Trudie swore foully when she dropped her keys. Sweeping them   
up and returning to the lock, she said "the two of you have to get out."  
  
The lock turned. Trudie threw open the door. Adam and Emma followed her into a room that seemed to be nothing more   
than a closet. "Secret exit, tunnel in the floor, or a hologram?" Adam asked in anticipation. His eyes were locked on a   
group of shelves against the far wall.  
  
"Tunnel, but not in the floor." Trudie reached up and grabbed the light bulb over her head. She winced in pain from the heat, but she bore it and turned the bulb hard counterclockwise. A loud click preceded a folding ladder that seemed to emerge from the ceiling like a child from the womb. "Go." Trudie stepped back from the ladder.  
  
Neither Adam or Emma moved. "What about you?" They both asked, almost simultaneously. Although Trudie came from a world of darkness and was afflicted somewhat with the racism of her time, she was a good person. She might look down at Adam, even knowing who he was, but she did not despise him.  
  
"Come with us. You can get new ID and live in anonymity. We'll protect you." Adam said sincerely. His heart ached at the   
thought of another person being destroyed by Mason Eckhart, by the man he could have killed so many times yet spared.   
Adam felt like a selfish bastard, but he did not want Trudie's life on his soul. He had too much to account for already.   
This terrible future proved as much.  
  
"You could join the rebels." Emma chimed in, eager to seize a chance at hope. Her eyes were very much the same as her   
leader's. In a way, she was just as responsible for all that had come to pass as Adam. Hadn't she been in a place to kill   
Eckhart too? Wasn't she responsible for causing this whole future by getting hit by Portia Klein's temporal attack? She turned toward Adam. He'd tried to save her and being trapped in this world was his reward. "Please Trudie, come with   
us."  
  
A faint smile formed on Trudie Orion's lips. She stood up straighter and saluted them. "I am Trudie Orion of the 21st Medical. I am sworn by imperial oath and my own heart to protect the lives of soldiers." She seemed to grow stronger with every word. Trudie's eyes gleamed and her tongue hissed out for just a second. "I'm about to break that oath to guard your escape." Trudie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I've never had to kill anyone in my life. But I'd rather commit murder than let them take you. This world needs heros. I didn't have the courage to join the rebels. I did what little I could to help people escape but I was afraid to openly fight."  
  
Trudie Orion brought her hand down. Her eyes opened, wet with tears. "Thank you for giving me the courage to fight."   
She moved past them to the closet door. "Now go. Or I swear I'll kill you both rather than let Eckhart have you." Trudie   
looked back over her set shoulders. Her eyes were cold and wet, like those of any serpent. She was a good person, but   
she would carry out her ultimatum.  
  
Adam reached out and grasped Emma's shoulder. "You go first." He said with a note of command. She hesitated only a   
second, turning back to watch Trudie walking out into the apartment. "Emma, we've got to go." Adam whispered into her   
ear.  
  
"Right." She went up the ladder. There wasn't enough room to stand in the tunnel above the ceiling. Emma had to crawl forward. She'd gone about twenty feet when she heard glass shattering.  
  
Behind her, Adam was rising rapidly up the ladder. "Keep moving." He loudly whispered as he reached back to pull up the   
ladder. There were tears in his eyes. "Good luck." He said softly before turning away from the apartment and all that was   
going to happen in it. For a moment, he and Emma were looking into each others eyes. By unspoken agreement, they   
started down the tunnel at the same time. Behind them, more glass shattered.  
  
  
  
Trudie Orion managed to surprise the first soldier that crashed into her apartment. Apparently, they had been expecting her to be caught unaware. Instead, she was ready for them. A venom spray sent the soldier down screaming. Without hesitation, Trudie rammed her fist down against the back of his neck, snapping bones. A second man came through another   
window, his handgun at the ready.  
  
With a roar of defiance, Trudie smashed his windpipe with a well placed blow. Reflexively, he fired a single shot, which slashed across her cheek. She gasped but otherwise ignored the flesh wound. It didn't really matter anyway, her body was already shedding the damaged skin and replacing it with new.  
  
Two more attackers came through the windows simultaneously. Trudie snatched the second soldier's pistol from the ground and fired twice at one man and three times at the other. Both of the soldiers fell. A brief pause extended, giving Trudie a second to realize that her enemy wasn't GSA but Imperial Guard. "Oh God." She whispered as she saw one of the dead men stirring, as if some arcane force where possessing his corpse.  
  
Suddenly, the door to her apartment exploded inward. A steady stream of men and women in white uniforms, subdermal governor launchers in hand. Trudie raised the pistol and started firing. One by one, the attackers fell. The slide jammed in the open position, its clip empty.  
  
Trudie spun around and barely blocked the blow from an Imperial Guard who had been dead only moments before. The   
man was the first to enter her home, his face lightly burned from her venom spray, but healing before her eyes. He grinned at   
her and struck without any regard for defense. Trudie slammed the pistol against his temple, heard bone crack. She leaned   
forward and gave him a heavy dose of venom. Bonelessly, he collapsed back into death.  
  
All around the apartment, the other guards were rising and Trudie could hear more on the way. "Die damn you!" She   
screamed as she delivered a kick to one woman's head and then a powerful punch to a man's throat. And then it was all   
over.  
  
Trudie Orion fell screaming to the floor, clutching at the subdermal governor attached to her back. She doubled over in pain and then went into spasm. Feelings of torment beyond belief raced through her body. Her Neo-Mutant gifts simply   
stopped. She felt her tongue go limp, her venom sacs turn numb. For the first time in her life, her blood ran warm and it   
seemed to burn her from the inside out. Trudie cried. She caught sight of a clock on her wall and was dismayed that the   
fight had lasted no more than a minute.  
  
"Well, well, Ms. Orion. Looks like I should have dealt with you when I killed your parents." Chief Interrogator Grant Van Negus strode into the apartment with six heavily armed Imperial Guard at his back. Beside him was a redheaded woman with fanatical eyes and a ruthless smile. "By the authority vested in me by Emperor Eckhart, I hear by pass judgment on   
you, Trudie Orion, in his name and mine. Your choices are death or life in a work camp. If you choose to give us Adam and Emma, I promise you life will be relatively easy at the camp." Van Negus smiled, confident in her reply.  
  
Moving took great strength. Somehow, Trudie managed to raise herself onto her hands and knees. She looked up slowly, gazing upon the face of the man who had murdered her parents right in front of her, the man who she had feared all of her   
life. With visible effort, she started laughing. "Death first."  
  
Grant nodded. "I was expecting that answer." He pointed his pistol, the same used on her parents, at Trudie's head. "Any last words?"  
  
A sense of serenity came over Trudie. She felt a great weight lifting from her shoulders. She smiled, for she knew that everything was going to be okay now. Maybe it was her imagination, but as she looked up into the barrel of Van Negus' pistol, she thought she could hear her mother's musical laugh and her father's rough guffaw. She felt intense pain in her body as she locked eyes with Grant.  
  
"Mutant X lives."  
  
*****  
  
Adam got nearly twenty feet ahead of Emma in the second, wider tunnel, before he realized she'd stopped. When he looked back, she was shaking and crying. "Emma? Are you alright?" He moved back, reached out for her.   
  
There was no hesitation. Emma wrapped her arms around Adam's neck and sobbed furiously. "She's dead. Trudie's   
dead." She buried her face in Adam's shoulder as he gently rocked her back and forth, calming her with soothing words   
even as his own tears started to fall. They had lost a friend tonight. Once again, they were alone with only each other to   
depend on.  
  
And the price was almost more than they could bear.  
  
*****  
  
Grant Van Negus stood in the apartment den, surveying the wreckage of a full scale search. No one had turned up anything yet. No hidden alcoves nor secret passageways. There were a few rebel pamphlets, some illegal technology, but nothing   
beyond that. Only the tell-tale traces of Adam and Emma's bio-signatures proved that they had been there.  
  
"I want this place searched again. Bring in tools if need be. Peel the wallpaper, scrap the paint, pluck up the tiles, and remove every piece of furniture. I want those two found." Grant ordered the Imperial Guard around effortlessly. His instincts and keen mind were invaluable. He moved from room to room, following the progress of his troops.  
  
Ever at his side, the girl with the pinched face documented the Guard's every action and Van Negus' responses to continued failure. He maintained a stoic demeanor. Earlier, he had felt a disdain that he could not explain for this woman. Now, he   
found her presence soothing, as if she were a warmth in the winter cold, a body beside him in a bed. She continuously   
relayed the Emperor's orders, commanding an Imperial Guard to move faster here, another to be more thorough in his   
search of an underwear drawer.  
  
Grant was calmed by her seeming lack of interest in him. If the Emperor was displeased with his performance so far, she did not relay the fact.  
  
"Sir, nothing here, sir." A woman in white with bullet holes in her crimson stained uniform said as she exited a closet.  
  
"Keep searching. We must find them." Grant said angrily. He ground his teeth. "There must be a hidden escape route here somewhere."  
  
The girl startled him by laughing. "Does it really matter?" She asked in a voice that was cold as arctic oblivion. "We will find them eventually. And when we do, we will bring them to the Emperor, so that they may witness his ascension to glory   
undreamed!" She turned to Grant with the familiar fanatical gleam in her eyes.  
  
Van Negus remembered a white room and pain. He remembered seeing another girl, older than this one, a woman really,   
with that same fanatical fire in her eyes. He shook his head to forget that and other recently acquired memories. The day   
was done now.  
  
END OF PART THREE 


	4. The Time For Rest

Part Four:  
The Time For Rest  
  
  
That night, Adam and Emma found themselves in a cheap motel. The clerk scanned their   
ID cards to determine their fees, based on their proximity to the Imperial Standard of Genetic   
Supremacy. He scanned the cards again after Adam lied about losing his account card.  
  
"Had that happen to me a couple of times." The clerk grumbled as he double checked   
their ID against a database of known traitors and criminals plus their aliases. "Ex-girlfriends   
mostly. But I suppose you two wouldn't know anything about that, seeing as how your married."   
He handed back the card, not noticing that Adam had started blushing.  
  
"Er, right. How much does this come out to?" He asked quietly. Behind him, Emma was  
blinking in surprise. Neither of them had gotten a chance to compare their ID cards before the  
attack on Trudie's apartment. They hadn't felt like stopping until now, when exhaustion and  
hunger were beginning to overcome them. "You said that you have a small refrigerator in each  
room?"  
  
The clerk nodded and yawned. "Yeah man. Plenty of good drinks and a nice assortment  
of cookies and candy for you and the missus." He glanced at Emma, his eyes roving her body  
with disturbing frankness. "If you don't mind me saying, you're a very lucky man. Especially  
considering you're an inferior." A dark smile formed on his lips. "Better treat her right, don't  
want to lose it all in a divorce. And I do mean all." The clerk slashed a finger across his throat.  
  
Adam cleared his throat and coughed. "The price?" He asked again.  
  
"Relax, its only five hundred Imperial dollars for the night. Now, if you want to extend  
your stay, you've got to get a new account card." The clerk paused and seemed to grow a little  
friendlier. "If you want, I can get you the number of the local bank. They can issue you a card  
without any trouble."  
  
"Thank you. That would be very helpful." Adam said as he took the electronic card key  
the clerk had set down on the counter earlier. He turned to Emma, whose face still held a hint of  
the startled blush that had come when the clerk said "married." A smile from him made her relax.   
"Have a nice night." Adam said over his shoulder as they started walking down the hall toward  
the room.  
  
"You too!" The clerk yelled back. Then he laughed warmly. Beside Adam, Emma  
blushed brighter than ever.  
  
Down the hall they went, walking slowly as they found reality returning to them. Grief  
and fear pervaded their thoughts. In front of the clerk, both Adam and Emma had sought to play  
the roles of two friends on a road trip. While he scanned their cards and checked their  
background information, the clerk had listened to Emma affectionately joking with Adam, which  
had fortunately given credence to the illusion of marriage.  
  
Now, alone with each other and the memories of leaving Trudie Orion to fight and die for  
them, both were feeling like a flower crushed under the heels of Eckhart's fascist armies. They  
blamed themselves for her death. Indeed, they had good reason to. She had died, willingly died,  
to save them.  
  
"I miss her already." Emma muttered as she stood behind Adam, the door to their room,  
number 420, standing before them.  
  
He didn't answer. In silence he ran the card key through the reader and pushed into the  
motel room. Darkness seemed to pad out to greet them on the whispering, clawed feet of  
nightmares come to pass. For a moment, Adam stood at the threshold, his breath slowly seeping  
in and out. Then he turned back to look at Emma, tears blurring his vision.  
  
"I know." Adam said and that was enough. He walked into the room and sat in an  
armchair beside the bed. Head in hands, he quietly wished that he'd done something more to save  
Trudie from her own selfless act of heroism.  
  
Finally brought to a moment of calm and rest, Adam thought about the other members of  
Mutant X; ones that he and Emma had yet to find. "Shalimar, Jesse, and Brennan. What  
happened to you?"  
  
Adam felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to find Emma standing over him, a sad  
smile on her face. "We'll find them." She said softly, her voice so deeply concerned that Adam  
found himself wanting to take her in his arms and cry until all the pain of his mistakes was washed  
away. "Maybe they're hiding at Sanctuary."  
  
"Yeah. Maybe." Adam turned away from her and sighed. Deep in his heart, he knew  
Emma was just being the wonderfully kind and caring person that she had always been. She  
wasn't acting out of any emotion save the simple kindnesses of friendship.  
  
To keep them both distracted from the sadness they felt, Emma picked up a remote  
control and turned on an enormous view screen built into the wall. Immediately, an image of  
Trudie's apartment building appeared next to a woman's face.  
  
The reporter smiled warmly as studio lights fell on her darkly tanned skin and glittered in  
her chestnut brown eyes. A single strand of black hair, gone to grey at the temples, fell over her  
left cheek. She raised her hand into the air, giving a clenched fist salute to the people watching.  
  
"Good evening. Tonight marks a glorious moment for the Empire of Supremacy. A traitor  
has been eliminated after a brief battle with the Imperial Guard, our elite troops in the war against  
all who oppose the Emperor's will." The reporter smiled warmly and the image beside her  
changed to a file photo of Trudie Orion.  
  
Adam and Emma watched with matching expressions of horror. They had hoped for an  
escape from reality, not a bitter jolt of it.  
  
"This woman, a military physician for the 21st Medical, dared to harbor two of the most  
lethal criminals the Empire has ever seen." Again the photo shifted, but not to pictures of Adam  
and Emma. Instead, a man with fierce blue eyes, long blonde hair, and an aristocratic face  
appeared on the scree. "Chief Interrogator Grant Van Negus headed the operation, eliminating  
the traitor himself. Unfortunately, through no fault of his own, the Chief Interrogator was unable  
to terminate the two criminals, whose identities have not been released. In a formal written  
statement, Van Negus stated that he 'will not rest ever' until the enemies of the Empire have been  
destroyed."  
  
The reporter turned toward her left. Camera's panned quickly, revealing a roguishly  
handsome black man with green eyes, a neatly trimmed crewcut, and an infectious smile. "In  
world news, rebel strongholds in the Russ Provinces have been devastated. Among the dead are at  
least six members of the command staff for the movement and as many as six thousand soldiers."  
  
A light chuckle escaped the black reporter's lips. "Of course, that's nothing compared to  
inferior casualties, which may be as high as two hundred thousand, with many thousands more  
expected to die from exposure." For the first time during the broadcasts, both reporters could be  
seen as the camera's backed up. Somber expressions befell them. "Unfortunately, the bombing  
party took terrible casualties. Of the one hundred heavy bombers that left base, only thirty-six  
returned. The downed pilots are feared dead at the hands of the murderous rebel hordes."  
  
Emma shook her head sadly. "Those poor people. The only thing they did wrong was try  
to stay alive and free." She slide down onto the bed. "Adam, what are we going to do? How can  
we help these people?"  
  
"By finding a way back to our own time." Adam said with conviction. "If we can go  
back, we can stop Eckhart before any of this happens."  
  
"That's not what I mean." Emma turned toward Adam, her eyes blazing with sadness and  
anger. "We have to do something help in the here and now. We might not be able to go back."   
As soon as the words left her mouth, Emma realized that she hadn't really believed that it would  
be possible to go back, despite all of Adam's reassurances. With great strength, she stopped the  
morose feelings that threatened to overwhelm her and focused on the fire in her soul. "We have  
to stop Eckhart in this future. We have to."  
  
The news droned on behind them, the reporters going back and forth about one story or  
another. Always, there was a warm and friendly acceptance of Emperor Eckhart's decrees and  
the actions of his appointed officials. Even a brutally savage murder of a small child was made to  
sound good and proper.  
  
"You're right." Adam said after listening to that last report. "We may never go back,  
although I honestly believe that there is a way. Emma, do you believe me?"  
  
Emma reached out and took hold of Adam's hand. "I've always believed in you. And  
you've never failed me. Not even once." Her words were soft and caring. They made Adam feel  
like a better man than he knew himself to be.  
  
"We will go home. I promise you that." He glanced back at the view screen as the  
reporters started talking about a new wave of Genomex breakthroughs and programs aimed at  
improving nanotechnology. "And if it is at all possible, we will find a way to stop Emperor  
Eckhart and this murderer Van Negus."  
  
*****  
  
Two Imperial Guards delivered the body of Trudie Orion to the laboratory. One signed  
forms while the second assisted the Chief of Medicine and Science in placing the body on a  
smooth metal table. They worked in silence under the watchful gaze of Grant Van Negus, who  
waited in a doorway.  
  
"How long until you've finished preparing the body?" Van Negus asked as the two  
Imperial Guards took up positions, guarding everything around them.  
  
The Chief of Medicine and Science, a worn looking woman with mocha skin and lustrous  
black hair, shrugged. "Depends on a number of factors. Her overall genetic composition, how  
much damage was done to her cerebral cortex, and whether or not your people injected enough of  
the preservative. I can't be certain." She did not smile nor did she frown, her mouth remained a  
line kept thin by tightly pressed full lips.  
  
"Had you brought her to me alive, I could give you clearer answers." An eyebrow went  
up, as if to ask "why did you shoot her anyway?"  
  
Van Negus smiled at the woman's naivete. "You do understand that this woman was a  
Feral of the high order, don't you? Ms. Orion had combat training and most likely would have  
managed an escape at some point along the trip here, especially if any rebels were about." He  
gestured toward the bullet wound in Trudie's skull, a neat hole perfectly centered between her  
eyes. "Dead, she's not very much to worry about."  
  
The Chief of Medicine and Science shrugged, her expression still neutral. "As you say.  
Regardless of the damage, I think the procedure will work. She was injected before you shot her,  
I am correct in that assumption, yes?"  
  
"You are."  
  
"Then, might I make the hesitant diagnoses that you will have the answers you seek.  
Perhaps in the next few hours." She smiled finally, an expression without warmth. "Perhaps you  
should indulge yourself in some recreational sleep. You do look quite tired Chief Interrogator."   
With a curt nod, she turned toward the body of Trudie Orion to begin the procedure.  
  
Grant Van Negus left the lab without hesitation. It gave him chills. As he made his way  
away from the building and toward his mansion home, a feeling kept coming to him. The feeling  
was difficult to describe, except to say that it was something he had not felt since joining the  
Eckhart Youths. It was like being crushed beneath a weight. The harder he thought against the  
feeling, the stronger it became.  
  
And there was the white room. It was becoming clearer in Grant's mind, a simple spare  
room, filled with machines and scientists. Flashing lights on a scanner of some sort. Pain as  
electrodes were attached to the temples. "Where is the room? When was I there?" Van Negus  
asked quietly as he approached his home. Trying to ask those questions seemed to force the  
painful memories out of his system.  
  
So intent was Van Negus upon forcing the memories to the surface again that he didn't  
notice when he reached his home. He walked another ten steps before swearing and doubling  
back to his palatial front door. The mansion greeted him with a cold whisper as his key card ran  
through the reader. As he entered, Grant smelled something savory and delicious. He felt a  
strange mix of surprise and confusion. He didn't have a cook. Why was someone in his home  
making a meal?  
  
Grant quietly slunk into the dinning room. Two places had been set with the finest china.   
A bouquet of fresh white roses rested in the middle of the table, guarded by two candelabra with  
three tall black candles each. He could hear a woman humming a tuneless melody in the kitchen  
as she chopped something fresh and raw into pieces.  
  
Without hesitation, Grant struck. He grabbed the woman's shoulders and flung her  
against the refrigerator, automatically disarming her with a hard chop to the arm. He raised his  
pistol and aimed at her head. "What are you doing in my house?"  
  
The woman looked up. Recognition flashed in Grant's eyes as he took in her small, petite  
body and mop of black hair. He lowered his weapon.  
  
"I guess you forgot about me." The GSA woman said softly as she rubbed her arm, which  
was tingling with numbness. "When you told me to wait here for you, I figured it might be a  
while. I made dinner." She gestured toward a large ham which was bleeding on the chomping  
board. "Well, almost." Her smile was soft and gentle, far removed from the cold visage of the  
Chief of Medicine and Science.  
  
Van Negus stooped and retrieved the knife he'd knocked from her hand. "I'm sorry. I  
should have remembered." He shook his head and winced as a round of pain and stroboscopic  
lights filled his memory. "I'm having trouble remembering a lot of things lately."  
  
The woman stepped closer and reached out, lightly touching Grant's forehead. "Maybe I  
can help you. Sometimes the best way to remember something, is not to try at all." She leaned in  
and pressed her lips against Van Negus' own. The kiss was gentle but firm.  
  
When they came apart, the GSA woman retrieved a fresh knife from a drawer. "Wait in  
the dinning room. I'll have this ready in a little bit." She started chopping at the ham again. Her  
movements were fluid and economical, like the practiced repetitions of combat training. Every  
slice was perfect, always close to her fingers yet never cutting them. She started whistling.  
  
"I don't know your name." Grant Van Negus said as he watched her.  
  
"Does that really matter to you?" The woman asked without turning around. A hint of  
sadness was in her voice, as if she didn't expect him to care. Perhaps to her, he was just a  
possible stepping stone to a higher place in the GSA. It certainly couldn't hurt her position to be  
in any kind of relationship with the Chief Interrogator, even if it were only a single night of  
passion.  
  
"I want to know your name." Grant's voice broke into the woman's thoughts. He  
stepped closer to her and turned her around. "Please. I want to know."  
  
The GS agent blushed faintly. "Valerie. Agent Valerie Curio."  
  
"Pretty." Van Negus reached down took the knife from her hand, gently placing it on the  
counter beside the bleeding, chopped ham. "Don't worry about dinner. It can wait." He kissed  
her warmly, with greater passion than before. Something deep inside of him was screaming for  
something. The lights and the pain echoed in his mind.  
  
Agent Curio wrapped her arms around Grant's neck, holding him to her. She kissed back  
hungrily, as if she had not been kissed in a very long time. When she felt his hands slipping down  
her back, gripping her firm rear, she let out a small moan.  
  
And then everything went crazy.  
  
With a bellow of anguish, Grant Van Negus heaved Valerie away from himself. "What  
have I done? What have I done?" He screamed out in a wailing voice chocked with sobs. His  
eyes were crazed and he started striking himself with his fists. Then he remembered his pistol. It  
was in his hand in an instant and halfway to his head before Valerie acted.  
  
GS agent Valerie Curio concentrated and lifted the pistol from Grant's grip with her  
telekinetic powers. "Chief Interrogator Van Negus, you must remain calm." She commanded in  
a firm but gentle voice.  
  
A thin and desperately sad giggle escaped from Grant's mouth as he started sobbing  
violently. "Kill me. Please, kill me." He uttered desperately as he collapsed onto the floor. "I  
didn't want to hurt them. They made me do it! They made me!" His voice sounded like that of a  
small child, not the imposing and powerful man he truly was.  
  
"It's going to be alright, sir." Valerie said darkly as she reached into her black uniform.   
She pulled out a small handheld communicator with a built in coding system. With practiced  
efficiency, she dialed a series of numbers and was connected to the Citadel in moments. "This is  
Agent Curio. I'm with Van Negus."  
  
"Report." The voice on the other end was cold and brutal, the voice of Mason Eckhart.  
  
Valerie looked down at the weeping, curled ball that had only moments before been a man  
of great strength. She knew what had happened and why. Her report was cold and to the point,  
like a knife to the heart of an innocent man. "It's happened."  
  
*****  
  
The wind lashed remorselessly at the long lines of battered refugees. Over six hundred  
thousand people were on the move, marching over thick tundra frozen six feet deep into the  
ground. Rebel soldiers toted heavy packs laden with weapons, munitions, and medical supplies.   
The civilians carried everything they could. Some collapsed along the way, injuries or exhaustion  
taking them down. There was a general silence though, a somber sobriety so thick that it seemed  
a part of the frozen wasteland. The refugees were demoralized.  
  
Oliver White was twice burdened compared to most of the others. On his back was a  
pack filled with eighty pounds of munitions and supplies. Slung over each shoulder was a heavy  
caliber machine gun, fully loaded and accurate enough to serve as an anti-aircraft weapon.  
  
In his arms, held gently like a sleeping infant, was Lass Thompson. A hideous bruise had  
formed on her forehead, turning shades of purple and green that were nauseating. Occasionally,  
her body trembled from the cold, though she did not awake from her coma. The field medics still  
had not checked on her. Until they could, Oliver refused to abandon Lass.  
  
He didn't love her. Sometimes, the deeply insensitive and highly pragmatic side of  
Oliver's personality made him think that he was incapable of love. Lass was his friend, possibly  
his only friend and that was enough. He didn't love her but he would protect her at all costs.  
  
"Who is she?" The voice came from beside Oliver. It belonged to a woman with long  
blonde hair, turning grey in streaks. She smiled faintly, as if the whole world were some terrible  
joke that was sickly funny if you were depressed enough. Her uniform bore four gold stars at the  
collar. Other than that, there were no symbols of her rank. It wasn't really that important. Rank  
only mattered when people didn't know about you. This woman was a founder of the rebellion,  
well known to every soul on the long march.  
  
Oliver saluted. "Sir, her name is Lass Thompson, sir." He kept marching rather than go  
completely rigid and still with a death wind passing over his skin.  
  
The blonde General returned his salute. On her hand was a tattoo, a red circle with a  
black star at its center. "Call me General Longstreet. Sir seems a bit over the top for several  
obvious reasons." She waved Oliver to a more relaxed march, one that she easily maintained  
herself. Despite being the top leader of the rebellion, General Longstreet was not unburdened by  
supplies. On her own back, she carried close to one hundred and fifty pounds of munitions. She  
carried a ceremonial saber at her hip and a deadly accurate sniper rifle on her shoulder. Both  
weapons had seen much use. "Feral, right?"  
  
"Yes General. How did you know?"  
  
"I could smell it." She said with a sage-like smirk. Her eyes briefly shifted, a soft growl  
escaping her lips. "I'm a Feral too." The General reached out and started performing a set of  
basic field medical exams used to triage the wounded. She felt carefully around the hideous  
bruise on Lass's forehead. "Skull feels intact, that's a good sign."  
  
Oliver smiled for the first time in hours. "That's good to hear." He chuckled softly, even  
grimly. "Lass would have said, 'Adam and Emma be praised' or something like that. She's a big  
believer in Mutant X as saviors." He turned to the General, expecting her to make a dismissive  
gesture toward Lass' beliefs. Instead, he found her nodding in agreement.  
  
"Thirty years ago, give or take a few months, I met the Mutant X team." General  
Longstreet said as she marched beside Oliver. "I was dying, infected with a genetically  
engineered virus. My team, Black Star, had been wiped out." Her eyes seemed to focus on  
memories in the past. If not for the dreadful cold, Oliver thought she might have started crying.   
"There were only two of us left. Lieutenant Bo Longstreet and myself."  
  
"Were you married?" Oliver asked when she didn't continue.  
  
"Not yet. I was still going by Sergeant Angel Dorne back then." General Longstreet hiked  
her heavy pack further up on her shoulders, easing some of the stress on her back. "Bo and I  
were close then, but not yet involved. That came later." An unsuppressed smile seemed to melt  
years away from Angel Longstreet's face. Her wedding ring felt almost warm against her fingers.   
"I thought for a while that I'd lose him to Shalimar, the way Bo talked about her."  
  
Recognition sparked in Oliver's eyes. "Shalimar Fox. Lass told me about her. She said  
that Shalimar believed that Ferals were 'a breed apart' from other new mutants."  
  
General Longstreet nodded. "She did. She taught that to Bo and I, made us proud to be  
Ferals, though we'd been born normal humans." Her eyes turned dark. "I wish I knew what  
happened to her."  
  
"Everyone here wishes for that answer. Most pray nightly that Mutant X will rise again  
and stop Eckhart." A dismissive head shake followed those words. "I don't believe it. How  
could five people matter when faced with legions of soldiers and limitless resources?"  
  
Angel Longstreet stopped marching. "Adam could out think Mason Eckhart in his sleep.  
He understood the man on a level that no one else has ever come close to. And Emma DeLauro  
had a great gift for doing the unexpected. When I was sick, she helped keep me alive by holding  
on to my consciousness. The lose of those two virtually insured future problems. When Shalimar  
and Brennan Mulwray were presumed dead after the bombing of Sanctuary, well, that was it for  
Mutant X." She started moving again, Oliver White close behind.  
  
"Was that supposed to give me faith?" He asked coldly.  
  
"No, it was meant to give you perspective." The blonde let out a long sigh, her breath  
turning into a cloud of icy fog. "Jesse Kilmartin kept the fight going for a while. When he was  
lost, the new members of the team couldn't stand against Eckhart's regulars anymore. What you  
need to understand is that losing Adam and Emma hindered Mutant X's strategic capabilities in  
planing and wildcard actions. When Shalimar and Brennan disappeared, they lost the majority of  
their tactical ability as well as vital skills in tracking and infiltration."  
  
General Longstreet shook her head. "When the team lost Adam and Emma, they added  
two new members, a man named Evan Dane and a young woman named Charlotte Cook." She  
reached into her uniform and removed an electronic map tied to orbiting rebel satellites. A quick  
check revealed that they were on course for their fallback base. "Mutant X selected Dane for his  
offensive ability to cause explosions at the molecular level. They needed power in the battle  
against Gabriel Ashlocke and the Strand. Cook was selected after she reappeared and used her  
powers to free several brainwashed Strand members. Like the rest of Mutant X, those two  
disappeared, presumed dead by some and in hiding by others." She pointed over a hilltop.  
  
"Moscow." Oliver muttered under his breath. "Radiation's going to kill more than a few  
of us." He shook his head and looked to General Longstreet, hoping for a confidence booster.   
She merely looked away, sadness at the losses already there.  
  
"I've already lost one teammate, a boy named Pritchett. I don't want to lose anyone else."   
Oliver held Lass' body closer to himself.  
  
Angel Longstreet found a genuine smile coming to her face, though it lasted only a few  
moments. "You may not be a Feral, but you sure sound like one of us." She placed a reassuring  
hand on his shoulder before disappearing over the hill and into the burned out ruins of what had  
been the capital of Russia, a country only a few rebels could even name.  
  
Oliver watched her go. He looked down at Lass, cradled in his arms, at the bruise on her  
forehead and the pallor of her face. "Hold on old friend."  
  
*****  
  
Grant Van Negus knew he had been drugged. His mind was fuzzy. All around him were  
machines, some humming and some buzzing. The walls of the room were white. The ceiling was  
white. And he knew in his heart that the floor was white too.  
  
Standing in a semicircle around him were men and women in uniforms of ivory cloth.   
Imperial Guard. And, off to one side, stood a tall man with white hair who directed all the works  
around him, like a demon operating an infernal machine.  
  
"I know who you are." Grant mumbled as the leader approached him.  
  
"Of course you do. I'm your Emperor." Mason Eckhart said with an almost familial smile.   
"Poor Grant, you've become confused again." He reached out and placed his hand on Grant's  
shoulder, as a father might do for a favorite son. Only the ruthless cold in those dead eyes ruined  
the friendly gesture and made it one of the powerful over the powerless. "We're going to  
reacquaint you with reality. Or, at least reality as we choose to make it."  
  
Head still foggy, Grant looked up at Eckhart. For the first time in years, he could  
remember every moment of his life clearly. He'd just joined the Eckhart Youths when he was  
brought here, to the white room, to undergo reeducation. At first, he'd thought the machines  
were just for monitoring him. Then the lights began to flash, pummeling his brain with the unholy  
message of Mason Eckhart. Twice before, Grant had found himself back in this room. The  
programming kept wearing off.  
  
"I know who you are." Van Negus whispered, his eyes focused on Eckhart's face. "I  
know. And it doesn't matter how many times you use the machines, I will always—," Grant's  
declaration was cut off by a surge of electricity through his brain. The great and horrifying  
simplicity of the machines around him became clear as they thrummed to life. Strobe lights blazed  
blindingly, pummeling Grant's mind with images delivered through the pulses straight to his brain.   
Electricity passed through his cerebrum, insuring maximum pain and keeping the gray matter  
active and pliant for the input.  
  
It was over in seconds. "How do you feel now, Grant?" Mason Eckhart asked quietly,  
leaning close to the Chief Interrogator, his eyes studying him like a butterfly impaled in a case.   
"Better?"  
  
"Yes, my Emperor, I am well now." Van Negus said in a calm and controlled voice. He  
did not look directly at Eckhart. "Forgive my foolishness of a few moments ago, my Emperor. It  
will not be repeated."  
  
"I think he's done." Emperor Eckhart said with smug satisfaction. "Release his restraints  
and send him back into the field. I want Adam and Emma captured as soon as possible." He  
turned his back on Van Negus as he spoke to the Chief of Medicine and Science.  
  
An Imperial Guard released Grant's restraints. He rose smoothly and was out of the chair  
in moments. A smile crept to his face. Then he saluted Eckhart. "Thy will shall be done my  
Emperor. I will capture Adam and Emma and bring them to you." He was out the door before  
Eckhart's disgusting laugh could fill the white room.  
  
"Such devotion in a slave is pleasant, is it not doctor?" Mason turned to the Chief of  
Medicine and Science, his eyes still cold as a shark's.  
  
A sharp nod made her dark hair flutter in front of her face. "It is sir. I am pleased by this  
latest test of the equipment. It seems that perhaps we have finally corrected the problem of neural  
relapse. Van Negus should remain firmly in our hands from now on."  
  
Eckhart nodded and dismissed everyone around him with a gesture. One by one, the  
Imperial Guard and the Chief of Medicine and Science marched out of the white room. When he  
was satisfied that no one was left to bare witness to his actions, Mason reached out and placed his  
hands on the white wall.  
  
At first, the location seemed no different than any other. Then, a faint whirring noise filled  
the room. It was too quiet to be noticed unless you were looking for it. Red light appeared under  
Eckhart's hand. Slowly, a hidden machine scanned his hand print.  
  
"Password?" A computer voice chimed in cheerily from a hidden speaker.  
  
For a moment, Mason did not reply. It had been a long time since this room had been  
entered. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts for this encounter. "God maker."  
  
A loud click was followed by the sound of giant gears grinding in the walls. Slowly, the  
white wall split in two before Mason Eckhart. Soon, there was a doorway opening into a vast  
chamber.  
  
Eckhart stepped into the room. Behind him, the wall sealed, cutting off all light. "And  
Mason Eckhart said, let there be light." He muttered softly. An electronic hmm answered his  
words and hundreds of long, flourescent tube blinked to life, revealing a nightmare. Millions of  
stasis pods filled the chamber in rows and columns of one hundred thousand each. Every pod  
contained a person. Some held women, some men, and some children so young that gender could  
not be determined with ease.  
  
"Progress." Eckhart muttered as he walked deep into the chamber, approaching a single  
pod that was linked to all the others around it by thick wiring and tubing. A panel with an  
electronic readout bolding showed medical diagnostic data. Mason read it and was satisfied that  
all was in the proper margins for safety.  
  
"All is going according to your plans." Emperor Eckhart began as he came to attention  
before the pod. "In the next seventy-two hours, I expect to capture Adam and Emma. With the  
last members of Mutant X gone, your time will be at hand." He leaned down close and gazed  
with reverence into the pod, which was fogged with dust from nearly thirty years of waiting.   
"The plan is coming to fruition after these many decades." A smile formed on Mason's lips.   
"Your hour has come round at last, my master."  
  
*****  
  
Adam stood in the middle of a bookstore, staring at a picture history of the Empire of  
Supremacy, wondering how it was possible for the world to go so completely insane in only thirty  
years. Page after page of full color photos revealed horrors of enslavement and injustice that  
made him cringe. Genocide had occurred in numerous countries taken over by Eckhart, terrible  
purges of anyone and everyone unlikely to produce Neo-mutant offspring. Though the names of  
countries and continents were long ago erased, Adam saw that the worst of it had happened in  
South America, Africa, and Asia. Millions were forced into labor camps were they could be  
disposed of in an orderly manner.  
  
"Damn you Mason. Damn you." Adam muttered as he turned the page and found an entry  
that was shocking and sickening. It was a picture of white clad troops burning vast piles of  
corpses inside churches. "All of this because Emma and I disappeared. Insanity, its just plain  
insanity. How could people have been so blind to Eckhart's plans, how could they have let this  
happen to themselves?" Adam shook his head sadly.  
  
"You going to buy that or stand there reading it all day?" The question came from the  
shop owner, an attractive young woman who was confined to a wheelchair. "I'm not saying its  
rude not to buy it, but hey, I'm a fairly laid back kinda girl. Have to be if your stuck in one of  
these babies." She patted the cold metal chair affectionately.  
  
Adam walked over to the counter and put the picture history down along with several  
other volumes. Thanks to these books, he would be able to find the Double Helix and Sanctuary  
again. They'd also give him enough nightmares for the rest of his life. "This will be all." He said  
as the owner gave him a questioning look.  
  
"Okay, but don't you feel compelled to buy more since I'm a paraplegic?" She grinned  
and took Adam's ID card, placing the charge on it. The next time Adam used that card at a bank,  
the charges would immediately be made to his account. "Bet your curious how a cripple like me  
could escape the genetic quality controls of our great empire, huh?" The woman asked, her grin  
managing to be both oddly serious and genuinely infectious.  
  
"I am rather perplexed about that, yes." Adam said as he smiled back at the woman. She  
reminded him of Emma. The way her bright green eyes glittered was especially similar and they  
shared a common feature in hair color, though the shop owner had grown her's long. "It seems  
strange that anyone, even a Neo-mutant, would be allowed to live if they were going to be stuck  
in a wheelchair."  
  
"Normally, you'd be pretty much correct to assume I'd be toast." A slight darkness came  
over her face at those words, but it didn't last long. Whomever this woman was, she had long  
ago accepted her position and learned to cope with it. "Anyway, I'm a Neo-mutant of a high  
order, that's why I'm safe from the eugenics programs and their specialized killers." She noticed  
Adam's lack of understanding at the words 'high order.' With a friendly chuckle she wheeled  
herself over to a shelf, pulled down a heavy volume, blew some dust off its thick leather cover,  
and heaved it at Adam.  
  
He almost didn't catch it.  
  
"A copy of the empire's view on genetic purity and such. Might be useful to a man such as  
yourself. Never know when a random bit of legal trivia might save your life." She rolled back  
behind the cash register. "My name's Cynthia by the way, Cynthia Bochner."  
  
Adam shook her hand over the counter and gave his fake name. "So, what exactly does  
'high order' refer to?" He asked as she sold him the heavy book.  
  
"Advanced mutation with abilities surpassing Type A, or normal, Neo-mutants. My  
abilities, for instance, allow me to read minds and to create mind shields. Don't ask me to explain  
the process because I'm horrible with physics." Cynthia handed Adam a heavy bag filled with his  
purchases. "You have a nice day. And please, come back any time you need anything."  
  
"Thank you." As Adam turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of an image on a small view  
screen on the wall behind Cynthia. It was turned to a news channel and, earlier, Adam had  
ignored it because of the long list of injustices he kept seeing and hearing about. Now, he thought  
he'd seen a familiar face. "Excuse me, what were they reporting on?" He asked as he pointed at  
the screen.  
  
Cynthia spun her chair around with the speed and grace of a cat. She watched for a  
moment then turned back to Adam. "New Imperial Guards. They just swore in a whole slew of  
them. You want scary, watch those people marching around. They're so silent and focused, like  
they're possessed." She pressed a button next to the screen to switch to a different area of the  
net. "I'd rather watch just about anything else than those stone killers. Honestly, they give me  
chills."  
  
"Me too." Adam muttered as he turned to leave. He could have sworn he'd seen  
someone he knew on that screen. But the only person he'd met in this world was Trudie Orion,  
and she was dead.  
  
Shortly after Adam left, Cynthia rolled her way into a back office. She picked up a phone  
and dialed a long number. She waited for several minutes as the call was bounced from satellite  
to satellite. Finally, there was a loud snap and brief shriek of static followed by a voice.  
  
"Report." The voice sounded tired and very strained, the voice of someone who was very  
busy and growing desperate for a success.  
  
Cynthia smiled, the expression still very friendly though she was alone. "I think I just met  
someone you'll want to know."  
  
*****  
  
Only a scant few hours had passed since Emma had entered room 420 with Adam. Now,  
as she sat by herself, her mind wandered over the events of the past few days. She thought about  
the first moment she'd awakened in this terrible future world. "So this is hell. That's what I said  
and damn it, I had to be right." Emma muttered as she waited for Adam to return from his fact  
finding mission.  
  
She sighed and shook her head. "No, this is worse than hell. This is life." Emma felt a  
surge of sorrow as an image of Trudie Orion came to mind. The young Feral sacrificed herself to  
save them, but what had she really accomplished? Emma felt certain that the GSA or GSS or  
whatever the letters were would find Adam and her eventually. It was just a matter of numbers.   
There were two of them and millions of people hunting them.  
  
"And almost every one is a Neo-mutant." Emma said miserably. She felt sick thinking  
about their chances of survival. She didn't want to die here with Adam. "I don't want to die at  
all."  
  
Her own death was nearly impossible to think about, but Emma could imagine it without  
feeling much more than regretful. Yet, when she thought about losing Adam to this future gone  
mad, she felt an ache in her chest that was both physical and mental. Emma closed her eyes and  
thought about how worried she'd been when Adam slipped into unconsciousness after they'd  
arrived in this world. She remembered the way he'd woken her from a nightmare, so clean and  
wet from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel and a comforting expression. Then her mind  
wandered to the moments before Trudie died, when she'd first come into the apartment with the  
ID cards.  
  
What had she and Adam been about to do? They're faces were mere inches apart and she  
remembered feeling so alive. "Were we about to kiss?" Emma wondered out loud, realizing that  
the thought of it was enough to warm her heart. "My God, we were." She said, sitting up in  
surprise. Emma thought about every moment that she and Adam had spent together since  
appearing in this future. There were so many signs and portents leading to that almost kiss that it  
stunned her.  
  
"I can't believe I almost. . . And I really wanted to but. . . Oh boy." Emma ran both hands  
through her hair, something she did sometimes to calm her nerves. "Wow, what would Shalimar  
say if she knew?"  
  
That question brought Emma back to reality. "They're not dead. I'd know if they were  
dead." She whispered to herself. Indeed, Emma had a gut feeling that Shalimar, Brennan and  
Jesse were alive. It was only that though, a hunch. "I'm right, they're still alive." Her words  
were confident but not certain.  
  
Thinking about her teammates brought Emma back to thinking about her feelings for  
Adam. They hadn't just formed in a vacuum. She accepted that. She'd known that there was  
something special between them for a while. "I used to think it was just friendship though."   
Emma said to herself as she tried to sort through her feelings. Adam and she had been very close.   
Sometimes, he told her things that he didn't even tell Shalimar. They had a sort of rapport,  
deeper than just friendship.  
  
Emma thought about Shalimar and Brennan. She'd watched the two of them after their  
first encounter with Gabriel Ashlocke. They were a couple, it was easy to see. How exactly that  
had happened, Emma wasn't sure. Jesse smirked when he saw them and he smiled at Emma, but  
he never really seemed interested in her. Emma wondered sometimes what went on in Jesse  
Kilmartin's brain, though she read it on occasion. A brief look at the surface didn't always tell  
you what someone was thinking. She'd gotten the impression once that he was jealous of  
Brennan, but she wasn't sure if it was about Shalimar or something else.  
  
"Shal and Brennan really did seem happy though." Emma said as she thought about  
Adam. If those two could find happiness together, why not her too? "I'm going to tell Adam  
how I feel. If he doesn't feel the same, that's okay. I have to know how he feels about me."   
Again, Emma thought about Shalimar and Brennan, about how Jesse acted so disinterested. She  
wondered if Jesse really harbored feelings for Shalimar too. They'd always been close.  
  
"When I see him again, I'll ask him." Emma promised, finally deciding to trust her  
instincts and believe that her friends were still alive, and that Adam would understand.  
  
*****  
  
Adam walked through the motel room door and was greeted by the sweet smell of hot  
Chinese food. His stomach rumbled as he realized just how hungry he was. Carefully laying  
down his sack of books, Adam breathed in deep the scent of oriental delights. "Emma, did you  
cook?" The words came as he walked into the separate dining and kitchen part of the room.  
  
"Nah. I ordered takeout." Emma said as she used a spoon to ladle out a spicy noodle and  
chicken dish Adam wasn't familiar with. When she looked up at him, her eyes glowed with a  
delighted warmth and her lips pulled back into a glowing expression that made the room seem  
brighter. "I got an account card delivered from the local bank. Our new identities have plenty of  
money by the way." She pulled out a chair and gestured to it. "Have a seat. You look a little  
thrashed."  
  
"Thank you." The chair creaked as Adam collapsed into it. "Ah, it feels good to finally be  
back." At the back of his mind, a nagging voice wanted to chastise Emma for getting the account  
card. It was too risky with the news coverage of the attack. What if someone had seen them  
leaving the tunnels? What if someone was just overly paranoid about the card?  
  
Before that part of his mind could ruin the moment, Emma reached out and squeezed his  
Adam's hand. "It feels good to have you here. Really good."  
  
They looked into each other's eyes and felt the fear and sadness of the past few days slide  
away, leaving only a strangely comfortable expectancy.  
  
"Let's eat. The rice is getting cool." Emma said as she hefted a fork and started attacking  
a pile of the grains. She ate heartily, for she was just as hungry as Adam.  
  
In no time, both were devouring the meal. At first, they were silent, basking in the warm  
and companionable quiet. Bit by bit, they worked through the food, filling themselves for the first  
time in a while. From across the table, Emma kept looking at Adam, an odd little grin on her  
face. When she gazed at him, Adam found himself grinning back, like some schoolboy with a  
crush.  
  
As he chewed on a bit of chicken, Adam realized that his feelings ran far deeper than a  
simple crush. He stopped eating. 'This is the moment to tell her,' he decided suddenly. 'No  
turning back.' Adam looked at Emma, who had stopped eating and was watching him with eager  
eyes.  
  
"I found some interesting books." Adam said and then mentally slapped himself. "I think  
I know where the Double Helix is and I'm pretty sure we can find Sanctuary with ease." Inside  
his own skull, Adam was screaming at himself. 'Tell her!' He thought furiously at himself, 'tell  
her!'  
  
For a long moment, Emma was silent. Then, just as Adam was about to force out the  
words he desperately needed to say but was too frightened to utter, she spoke. "I'm in love with  
you."  
  
She'd said it. The words hung between Emma and Adam, hovering over their unfinished  
portions of rice and chicken. They locked eyes, seeming to gaze into their own souls. Those five  
words rested on the table, like a fortune cookie that had been snapped open. They could not be  
taken back, not now. It was time for both of them to face the simple truth.  
  
"Adam, I don't know when it happened. I've always found you attractive, ever since we  
first met." Emma said in a soft voice, her eyes still staring deep into Adam's. "When you were  
turned evil by Charlotte, I remember feeling so afraid that I'd lost you. I wasn't really worried  
about you hurting me. Somehow, I just knew that you'd give us a way out." She reached across  
the table, her hand stopping just inches from Adam's. There was a long pause between them,  
Emma's eyes were moist with unshed tears of release, the secret had been in her heart for a long  
time. It was only now coming out.  
  
"When I saw you choking Shalimar, I realized something." She let out a deep breath.   
"You didn't love her. I'd thought for a long time that there was something between the two of  
you, something beyond friendship. But you didn't care about her. She couldn't reach you."  
  
Another pause. A few seconds passed in silence. Adam did not speak, he just kept his  
eyes on Emma, and waited for her to finish.  
  
"Shalimar couldn't reach you. But I could. That was why you were going to attack my  
mind, because the dark part of you knew that I was the only one who could reach the good side  
of you. I think that was when I first started to need you." She closed her eyes for a moment. "I  
love you Adam, I know that now. And I hope," Emma looked at Adam imploringly, "that you can  
care about me too."  
  
It was all said. Every bit of it was out in the open. Emma had laid her heart and soul bare  
for Adam, asking him to love her without truly asking. She knew that he felt something for her.   
A part of her dared to dream that it was the same sweet love that she had in her heart for him.   
The pessimistic side of her mind talked about their ages, their differences in personality, her  
decidedly lower IQ.  
  
"When I first met you," Adam started, "I felt a connection. At first, it was just friendship.  
You were so sweet and so interesting. I don't think I've ever met anyone else like you, Emma."   
He reached out and took her hand, holding tightly. "That friendship turned into love. I wasn't  
willing to let myself even dare to hope that you'd reciprocate my feelings. Why would someone so  
young and beautiful and vibrant, want an old man like me?"  
  
Emma leaned across the table and kissed Adam. "Because you're the most incredible man  
I've ever met." She whispered as they parted. They kissed again, with greater urgency. As one,  
they rose from their chairs. Emma put a hand behind Adam's head and pulled him closer to her,  
their bodies practically melting together.  
  
This moment had been a long time coming. Each had wanted it for so long, but it had  
taken being lost in this bleak and terrible future to reveal their hidden desires. In that moment,  
each was so taken by the feelings of love and acceptance that they would gladly have thanked  
Portia Klein and Darius Monaco for banishing them to Eckhart's dark world.  
  
Their kiss grew in intensity until it was no longer just a kiss. Adam's lips were on Emma's  
throat, moving down to her shoulders, while her hands were squeezing his back. She wrapped  
one leg around his waist as they spun in a sort of dance move, each feeling so amazingly alive that  
the world outside was forgotten completely. Emma sighed with happiness. She'd waited a  
lifetime to feel like this. Truly, madly, passionately in love.  
  
Adam lifted her off the ground completely. Emma giggled and wrapped her arms around  
his neck, nuzzling against him, her lips kissing his cheek and then nibbling on his neck. In the  
bedroom part of the motel room, Adam gently settled Emma on the firm yet yielding mattress.   
There was an unspoken question in his eyes as he leaned down, kissing her lips.  
  
"Yes." Emma whispered breathlessly, her own fingers slipping down her blouse's zipper,  
revealing her bra covered breasts. She reached out for Adam, and he slipped into her arms.   
Emma's blouse dropped to the floor after that, followed shortly by Adam's shirt. Then a short  
skirt and a pair of long black pants. Soon, there was nothing left to hit the floor. At some point,  
one of them managed to turn off the light, though neither intended to sleep for a very long time.  
  
"I love you, Emma DeLauro." Adam whispered in the darkness as they pressed against  
each other in the embracing blackness of the bedroom.  
  
Emma breathed a shuddering sigh and kissed him. "And I love you too, Adam Cain."  
  
*****  
  
"Yeah, we had a few new arrivals a couple of hours ago. An inferior and a Neo-mutant,  
married couple according to their ID cards." The clerk said as his eyes slid nervously from one  
Imperial Guard's face to the other. Sweat slithered down his brow and tickled his nose, but he  
didn't scratch. He barely breathed as the white clad soldiers examined him. "They were acting  
like marrieds too, so I didn't question it." There was a defensiveness to his tone that made him  
seem guilty of something.  
  
Van Negus stood alone, apart from the interrogation of the clerk. His talents were useful  
with recalcitrant souls, not nervous little nobodies. He ran his fingers through his long blonde  
locks, shivering slightly at the familiar feeling. This motel made him long for the mansion and  
Valerie Curio, who he'd spoken to after leaving his meeting with the Emperor.  
  
"What room are they in?" He asked quietly, making the clerk recoil in a comical display  
of surprise and fear. Until that moment, he'd been too preoccupied by the Imperial Guards to  
notice Grant. Now, the poor man turned into quivering jelly as fear liquified what the tiny bit of  
resolve and dignity he had left.  
  
"420, please don't hurt me." The clerk whimpered pitifully.  
  
Chuckling, Van Negus led the Imperial Guards with him to the door to room 420. He  
held up a hand, stopping the long column of soldiers.  
  
There were at least twenty soldiers, all clad in the white uniform of Eckhart's most lethal  
troops, standing behind Grant, eager to spill the blood of their master's greatest enemies. Outside  
the motel waited one hundred black clad GSA killers, armed to the eyeballs with lethal artillery.   
There would be no escape from this place. No one could hope to defeat so many of Eckhart's  
followers, not even the great and feared Adam and Emma DeLauro.  
  
However, there was the still the question of whether or not the couple in the room was, in  
deed, Adam and Emma DeLauro. Grant was unfamiliar with the two. He knew basic facts of  
their appearances but nothing exact. There were no portraits of them nor were their pictures on  
file. At some point in time, Mason Eckhart had attempted to erase all traces of Mutant X from  
existence, in the hopes of preventing the growing rebel movement from seizing onto the hope of  
saviors. The tactic had not been successful and unlike the situation with the other members of  
Mutant X, there were no later opportunities to acquire Adam and Emma's images.  
  
Grant had scanned the clerk's mind, giving him a very clear picture of the two who had  
checked in. To his skilled mind, he found their actions to be somewhat forced, as if they were  
nervous or upset.  
  
"Or lying." He started to reach out to knock on the motel room door, but stopped with  
his fist halfway there. "Why tip them off and lose the advantage of surprise?" Van Negus smiled  
and took a deep breath. Focusing all of his attention on the images from the clerk's mind, he  
reached out with a mental hand, its fingers feeling inside the room for active minds. After a  
second of searching, Grant found them.  
  
A slight blush formed on his face. "They're acting married all right." He muttered as he  
tried to sort through the throes of their passion, which was occupying virtually all of their senses  
and thoughts, to reach some clear thought or aspect of self that would identify them. After a few  
seconds, he gave up. The strain of trying to fight through the power of the couple's lovemaking  
was giving Grant a terrible headache.  
  
A decision had to be made. It was against the rules of conduct to cause loyal citizens  
trouble without just cause. From personal experience, Grant knew that the Emperor would  
demote and punish those who abused their authority, often publically. It helped to further endear  
him to his subjects. Now, the seemingly beneficial rules were an impediment. Should he break  
into the room to make certain that they weren't Adam and Emma or just leave them be?  
  
Van Negus didn't dwell on it for long. "Move out people. We're wasting our time here."   
He said in a quiet voice, so as not to disturb the couple or anyone else in the area. "The Emperor  
said nothing of a relationship between our prey, so they can't be the ones in that room."  
  
His words satisfied himself and the Imperial Guard, who quietly marched ahead of Van  
Negus. It had been a long day. He smiled at the thought of turning in for the day and going back  
to his own mansion home and Valerie. 'That couple couldn't have been Adam and Emma,' Grant  
thought as he stepped out into the night, 'Adam and Emma weren't in love."  
  
END OF PART FOUR 


	5. The Sanctuary Of No One

Part Five:  
The Sanctuary of No One  
  
  
As the sun rose high in the sky, bathing a bleak and evil world with a holy glow, Adam  
stirred in motel room 420. There were no windows, no way for the sunlight to reach his tightly  
shut eyes or his soft sweet skin. Still, the morning whispered to him the ageless song of  
awakening. Adam groaned softly as he slowly slid sheets from his chin down to his feet. With a  
deep yawn, he sat up, a hand reaching toward his tousled hair. He felt deeply happy. Were he  
honest with himself, he would say that he was happier in this moment than he had ever been  
before in all the years of his life. For a moment, he couldn't believe that it hadn't all been a  
dream. Adam was amazed that Emma would let him take her in his arms, kiss her with such  
passion, and then make love to her until they were both exhausted and could stay awake no  
longer. It would have been terribly easy to believe that it had all been a wonderful dream.  
  
Easy but very sad, oh so painfully sad and lonely.  
  
Adam felt slender fingers wrap around his hand. He looked down beside him and there was  
Emma, lying in the bed. Her eyes were shut and there was a seraphic expression on her face,  
as if she were dreaming of angels in heaven. Adam's heart seemed to skip a beat. For a   
moment, he was convinced that this was some beautiful illusion that would melt away before his  
eyes. In her sleep, Emma pulled Adam's hand to her chest and snuggled his arm, convincing  
him that he hadn't been dreaming.  
  
Adam leaned down and pressed his lips gently against Emma's. "I love you." He whispered  
softly into her ear.  
  
As he sat back, her eyes opened and she propped her head up in one hand. "Love you too."  
She said in a quiet voice, a gentle smile forming. Locks of brown hair hung lank against her  
cheeks. Adam reached out and smoothed them back into place, drawing a gentle sigh from  
Emma as she took hold of his hand and started kissing it.  
  
Then the moment changed.  
  
"There's something I have to tell you," she said, her face turning serious. "About last night. . ."  
Her voice trailed off as she looked into Adam's eyes.  
  
He looked away. "Don't worry, it won't happen again." Adam whispered sadly. He'd been  
expecting this. Emma had come to her senses and realized that they couldn't be together.  
  
"What? Adam, that's not funny." Emma said as she sat up in bed, pulling a sheet tightly to her  
chest, even though modesty seemed pointless. Her voice was nervous and tinged with a  
strange tension, as if she too believed that the night before might have been a dream. "That  
wasn't what I meant and you know that. Adam, I am in love with you. Last night wasn't some  
single moment of insanity or anything like that." Eyes shining with emotion, Emma reached out  
and touched Adam's cheek. Her fingers tenderly traced the lines and felt the rough texture of  
his beard stubble. She let the sheets slip away from her body as she leaned forward, her eyes  
locked with Adam's.  
  
"Last night was the most incredible night of my life." Emma whispered, not a trace of  
exaggeration in her voice. She looked away then, suddenly retreating from him. "I've never let  
myself just. . . go, not like that. Never like that." Her voice was soft like the feathers of a sacred  
dove.  
  
For a moment, Adam wasn't sure what Emma meant. They're lovemaking had been  
passionate, almost animalistic, but somehow he knew that wasn't what she meant. Slowly,  
memories of the night before started to fill his mind. More than the flesh had been joined. Adam  
remembered and suddenly knew what Emma was talking about.  
  
"The memories." Adam whispered softly. He reached out and lifted Emma's face so that they  
were looking into each other's eyes. Deeper, they were diving into each other's souls. Into the  
depths of one another they fell, until Adam and Emma were again at that place they had reached  
last night. They knew everything about each other, every secret and every dream.  
  
Adam knew the sins of Emma's past: sins of the child, the girl, the teen, and the woman. He  
knew her darkest desires and her most righteous hopes. She was completely known to him  
in that moment.  
  
Emma, in turn, knew all there was to know of Adam's mind. His dreams were written in  
her soul now, his sins were revealed, things he still had not shared with the others. She knew  
every impulse: good, bad, neutral, selfless and selfish.  
  
"The memories." Emma echoed as she touched Adam's cheek. "They'll fade over time. I  
know they will." She sounded a little sad as she spoke. "I don't think I want you to remember  
all of it. Some of the things I've done and thought, I regret more fiercely than you can imagine."  
She licked her lips. There was a sadness and a fear in her voice.  
  
"You don't have to be afraid Emma. Nothing you've done in the past can change how I feel  
about you." He reached out and touched her face gently. The contact reassured them both.  
"We've lied to ourselves for so long. Deep down, we knew the feelings were there. I don't want  
to lie anymore. I love you and there's nothing that you can do to make me turn away."  
  
Silence stretched between them as they just stared into each other's eyes and felt something  
neither had ever truly felt. They felt at peace. There was an honest and frank acceptance there,  
for all the things they hadn't known. Slowly, they came togther and held each other. Their  
hand's were entwined. It was just so natural now to be here, so close that they could smell each  
other's skin, so close that they seemed melted together.  
  
It was a moment that changed them both forever. They accepted each other. They knew  
each other. There were no more secrets. At least, there were none until the memories faded.  
When they did, the bond would still be there. That link was permanent now. Adam and Emma  
were bound to each other in a way that only a few human beings had ever been bound before.  
They knew everything that the other was capable of but weren't afraid.  
  
Fear would come after the honeymoon period. And it would come with fast little feet and  
killing claws.  
  
*****  
  
Grant Van Negus stood in the halls of Eckhart's Citadel, as he had the night it all begun. He  
was glaring, his eyes fixed on one of the many paintings that adorned the walls. Many depicted  
the Emperor as mankind's savior and others made him out to be a god. But it was the portraits  
of the Mutant X team he sneered at now.  
  
"Lies. Damned lies."  
  
In the early moments of the discovery that Adam Kane and Emma DeLauro had returned from  
whatever limbo they'd disappeared into, he'd come running here to memorize the portraits.  
Then, as he'd prepared to leave, he'd happened to notice that two of the paintings depicting  
Adam showed two very different people. Grant had paused and frowned at the images, trying  
to comprehend why one portrait showed Adam looking nearly ancient and another showed  
a man who appeared very youthful.  
  
As he'd compared the images, he'd noticed other discrepancies in the various works of the  
Mutant X team. Emma's hair was brown in one, black in another, reddish brown in yet another.   
Shalimar Fox seemed to grow taller or shorter, depending on which painting you started with  
and her skin tone alternated between pale pink and bronzed tan. Brennan Mulwray's body was  
lean and muscular in one portrait, broad and stocky in another, and then almost inhumanly tall.  
Jesse Kilmartin had more faces than Grant thought possible.  
  
For the longest time, he'd paid the portraits little attention. He was a busy man and could not  
be trifled with artworks. Then, having seized on them for a moment as his salvation in hunting  
down Adam and Emma, he'd realized that they were grossly useless as wanted posters.  
  
Now, having failed Emperor Eckhart yet again, Grant stood before the portraits and hated  
them with such fierce fire that he was stunned that they didn't spontaneously combust.  
  
"Rough night?"  
  
The voice brought Grant out of his art critique and back to the Citadel's hallway. The woman  
standing before him wore a freshly cleaned GSA uniform. It's black fabric matched black  
hair that came down to her ears. Before, he had thought of the style as a mop but now he  
considered it a bowl. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, though she must have  
been inside the Citadel for some time. She smiled and the expression put Grant in mind of a  
shark; he detected no warmth in the expression.  
  
"Agent Curio. Nice to see you again." Grant said in a formal tone.  
  
Memories of the previous day came to him: encountering Valerie Curio in his mansion and  
disarming her, later embracing her, and then a blank space. The memory gap seemed natural to  
Van Negus and he did not question why it was there, though he might one day many years from  
now, when the White Room's programing broke down again. Part of him knew that but that  
piece of his mind was hidden from the rest of him. After the gap, Grant remembering being  
ordered by the Emperor to find Adam and Emma. He remembered going to a hotel room and  
deciding not to enter. Then he'd started to go back to his mansion for sleep. He had been so  
very tired and Valerie had been waiting for him.  
  
"You didn't come back to your mansion. I was worried." GS agent Curio said in a  
matter-of-fact and conversational tone. "I ate dinner alone, slept in your bed, came here. And  
now, finally, we meet again." She sounded different than she had the day before. There was  
nothing of deference in her voice, nothing of subordination. Agent Valerie Curio sounded angry.  
She sounded like a woman scorned.  
  
Grant remembered deciding halfway to his mansion that he wanted to, needed to, had to find  
Adam and Emma right then and there. He felt so enraged that they had managed to evade  
him and he wanted them caught. Grant had decided to go back to his office and work. There,  
he had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. He'd just woken up a few minutes ago and probably  
looked like hell. He'd been walking down the hallway when he'd been seized by an irrational  
desire to just stand there and hate the paintings.  
  
It was strange. He'd always been a man ruled by a level of primal emotion. But he'd never  
done things that made no sense before. Something was breaking down in his mind. Sanity  
was dissolving steadily and had he possessed full control of his own mind, Van Negus would  
have known that the White Room was to blame.  
  
"What's wrong with you Chief Interrogator?" Valerie asked as she took a step forward.  
Her voice now held a tinge of concern. Had she just now noticed his blonde hair greasy and  
disheveled, his rumpled uniform, his bloodshot ice eyes, his odd behavior? Valerie reached out  
and touched his face in that familiar way that women had with those they were close to.  
  
The touch infuriated Grant. He swatted her hand away and snarled at the startled Agent Curio.  
"You're a distraction from serving my master!" Then he spun on his heel and marched down  
the hall without a backward glance.  
  
As he strode toward the main entranceway, he sensed Valerie hesitating to follow him. Step by  
step, his rage at her grew irrationally. It was as if every frustration he'd ever felt was now  
pouring into this one moment, this one instant. Face contorted by the overwhelming viciousness  
of his own soul, Grant did not look back. He passed through the security checkpoint at the main  
entrance and exited the Citadel.  
  
The bright sun made him wince in pain. His eyes were tired and felt like sandpaper had been  
grafted onto them. "May the Emperor's glory one day dim that miserable orb of a sun." He  
muttered while shielding his eyes with a raised hand.  
  
"Amen."  
  
Grant turned and found himself face to face with the young girl who acted as Mason Eckhart's  
representative in the field. Her pinched face and sanguinary straw hair were too unusual, her  
voice and manner toward the Emperor too fanatical, for him to easily forget her.  
  
She smiled warmly. "May I assume that you are preparing to interrogate the prisoner we took  
yesterday? If so, the Emperor has expressed an interest in watching you work." Again, there  
was that glow of cold and fathomless madness. Her loyalty was completely and selflessly fierce.  
"You have his favor. Perhaps he will make you an angel when he conquers heaven and becomes  
the new and improved God of our world."  
  
"Perhaps." He said in a way that ostensibly showed his belief in Eckhart's ascension. Half  
of a second later, he squinted at her. "What prisoner? That forger from the old highschool? I  
thought my Inquisitors determined that he knew nothing of importance."  
  
The girl chuckled. "Your staff aren't you. The skill you possess is legendary." Suddenly, she  
went rigid and her eyes got that faraway look. She gritted her teeth hard. Then, her features  
seemed to grow less stiff. "I expect your singular talents will provide us with fruit from the  
subject. Interrogate this traitorous forger and act on any information you obtain. Take this dear  
girl with you." The voice that came from the girl's throat was her own but directly controlled by  
Mason Eckhart. It took almost a minute for her body to loosen up and her eyes to refocus on  
the world around her.  
  
Van Negus had watched the entire episode of possession with a twisted fascination, similar to  
how a person stands by and watches a train wreak. "As the Emperor commands, I do. Follow  
me." He started walking away from the Citadel and toward another building directly next to it  
on the left. A quick verification of his identity and the girl's allowed them to enter.  
  
Thousands of people were there, caged in tiny cells that were barely long enough for them  
to sleep if they tucked their legs to their chests, cloaked in vast oceans of darkness. The stench  
of unwashed and half rotted flesh mixed with the reek of human waste. No bathrooms or beds  
here. Just matted straw. Grant ignored all of this as he walked down the center of the building,  
cages all around him filled with people silently awaiting death. Finally, they reached the cell of  
the forger Mack.  
  
"Time to go to work." Grant muttered coldly.  
  
Mack looked up at the Chief Interrogator, his eyes instantly focusing on the taller man's. "Better  
men than you have tried to get me to squeal. See this?" He touched the long scar that ran from  
his left temple down the neck of shirt and out of sight. "I've been through more than you could  
ever imagine."  
  
Serpentine silence stretched forth and coiled around Mack's heart as Van Negus simply stood  
there, barely even breathing. He was concentrating, gathering his psionic powers. Mack had  
heard stories about the Chief Interrogator and the training GS agents went through. Those  
stories gave him nightmares. Just before Van Negus launched his first round of mental  
interrogation, Mack realized that the stories were all true.  
  
For almost an hour, Grant worked on Mack, piling agony upon agony. The tormented man  
screamed until his throat grew raw and blood trickled down his chin. Moment by moment,  
Mack was subjected to the torment and suffering every GS agent went through. He felt the  
suffering and the violence magnified a thousand times. Grant forced him to endure crimes so  
unspeakable that even the most sadistic of forgotten Hitler's torture masters in the SS would  
have been sickened.  
  
"Are you ready to tell what those ID cards said? Open your memory to me Mack and this is all  
over." Grant said in a voice that was remorseless.  
  
Mack, quivering uncontrollably, did not look up at Van Negus. He simply relented and allowed  
the monster to plunder and rape his mind, stealing every useful piece of data. Nothing was left  
hidden when the Chief Interrogator was finished.  
  
"He doesn't know where Trudie was taking the cards. But I now have a clear image of Adam  
and Emma DeLauro." He turned and smiled at the girl who had watched all he had done and  
sent all of it back to Eckhart. "And I know where a rebel cell is here in the capitol. Perhaps  
they know where to find our prey."  
  
Grant Van Negus left the building without a backwards glance. Before he'd gotten five feet from  
the front door, Mack had killed himself in his cell. He couldn't live with the memories Grant had  
poured into him.  
  
*****  
  
Though it had been difficult to leave the bed, Adam and Emma had finally managed.  
Wordlessly, they'd parted, each feeling diminished. Keeping their hands off each other long  
enough to dress seemed to be a problem though. After so long feeling alone and hiding or  
ignoring the growing attraction they'd shared, they were like junkies desperate for another fix.  
Intoxicated by their passion, they kept interfering with the simple task of dressing. A soft touch  
here, a murmur of lust there, and a kiss sneaked in for its own sake.  
  
"We're never going to get dressed at this rate." Emma said with a giggle as Adam slid his arm  
around her waist and brought her close to him, leaning down to kiss her over her shoulder.  
She'd been trying to slip into a pair of jeans and he'd slightly unbalanced her. She had no choice  
but to lean against his body, to feel his bare chest against her equally bare back. His chest hair  
tickled in a way that made her think of sparks sliding down a metal pole after lightening strikes.  
"Maybe I should dress in the bathroom." She suggested but made no move to leave.  
  
Adam squeezed her tight and breathed in the scent of her hair and skin, an aroma so powerful  
that it made his heart pound and his breath catch. "Maybe we should just go back to bed." He  
murmured softly.  
  
"As tempting as that sounds," Emma began but stopped mid sentence when Adam started  
kissing the back of her neck. She sighed and let herself revel in the sensation for a few moments.   
The feeling of this man's lips on her skin made every nerve vibrate. In all of her life, Emma had  
never met a man who could do that. "That feels so good. The whole world just kinda goes  
away. Everything's just the sensation of your lips and my body." She turned around and met  
Adam's lips with her own in a kiss that held the essence of heaven in it.  
  
When their lips parted at last, each was hungry for air and felt slightly faint. "We really should  
dress in separate rooms." Adam breathed as he rubbed his chest. His lungs were desperate.  
He smiled warmly and kissed Emma quickly, surprising her and warranting a sweet chime of  
laughter. "I'll be the gentleman and leave you with the spacious bedroom." He turned away  
and snatched up his clothes.  
  
"Hurry back." Emma murmured into his ear as he started for the bathroom. She ran a hand  
down his spine before he could get far, almost making him turn around.  
  
Apart from her, Adam stood in the bathroom for a long moment, just trying to gain full control  
over himself. In his long life, he'd loved only a few. Yet it was only in this love, in this moment,  
that he knew what love really was. The other times had been poor imitations of this singularly  
unique and amazing feeling. Words, which had always come so easy to Adam, seemed  
inadequate to fully describe the feeling that made his heart gallop.  
  
No. There was one word that personified the feeling.  
  
"Emma." He whispered and drew a longing breath. Even separated by just a door, he missed  
her and wanted her with him. Eventually, he started to pull on his clothes, the very same  
garments had arrived in. They'd been cleaned at Trudie's apartment, washed in an opulent  
bathroom with built-in washer and dryer.  
  
A pang of guilt bit into Adam's heart as he thought about Trudie Orion. She'd fought to protect  
them and she'd died for her bravery. She'd believed in Mutant X, in the power to fight Mason  
Eckhart's hell on earth. Trudie died for the cause. She died for Adam's cause.  
  
In the privacy of the bathroom, his head held low and his hands in his hair, tears streamed briefly  
down his face as he thought about the latest fallen hero. How many had to die before Eckhart  
and others like him were gone from the world? Adam looked at himself in the mirror and  
wanted to scream. He knew the answer already.  
  
"Too many." He whispered.  
  
Meanwhile, just a handful of meters away, Emma stood before a mirror, examining herself and  
remembering. She'd decided to return to the clothes she'd been wearing when she'd arrived  
in the bleak and remorseless future. As she stood and watched her reflection, she was struck by  
how much she'd changed in just a few days. This future, so horrifying and nightmarish, had  
leached from her the mask she wore to hide her true feelings. She felt, for the first time, peaceful  
in just being Emma DeLauro.  
  
"But at what price?" She asked as she turned away from the mirror. "Poor Trudie. God, why  
did she do that? Why didn't she just come with us?"  
  
It hurt to think about the woman who, in only a few hours, become a close friend. Strange that  
fear and desperation forced people to admit their truest and purest emotions. Trudie found the  
strength to hope and to oppose Eckhart, if only for one short and fatal battle. Emma had finally  
allowed herself to realize the truth of her feelings for Adam. She'd loved him for so long, yet  
she'd refused to call it that. And Adam himself had come to grips with his conflicted feelings.  
  
Emma glanced back at the mirror. She had changed so profoundly but she looked the same as  
she always had. Maybe her cheeks were a little more rosy or her eyes a tad brighter but that  
was all. Oddly, Emma found herself feeling easier about accepting the way she looked. Her  
uncertainty about her place on the team and about herself in general was all but vanished. Love  
had purified her.  
  
The bathroom door opened behind her and she turned. Adam stood before her, dressed in  
black suit and loving smile. "So, where do we go from here?" She asked as she stepped closer  
to him, her body seamlessly finding it's way into his arms.  
  
"Where do you want to go Emma?" Adam asked as he held her close, praying for a miracle to  
save them from the darkness. "I'll do you anything I can for you. Anything."  
  
Emma closed her eyes, saw Trudie Orion bravely remaining in her apartment to do battle with  
the forces of Eckhart's Empire. She saw the picture from the news, a man with ice eyes and  
hard and regal features. She saw the statue of Eckhart that had greeted Adam and she when  
they'd arrived in this nightmare. Finally, in a vision that was memory made to seem a glimpse of  
the future that could be, Emma saw Sanctuary and Mutant X. She saw Shalimar hugging her  
and Adam both, desperately glad that they were home. She saw Jesse smirking in that oddly  
handsome way of his, shaking Adam's hand and clapping her on the back. She saw Brennan,  
always so stoic, letting out a relieved sigh and welcoming them back almost as warmly as  
Shalimar.  
  
Emma opened her eyes and looked deeply into Adam's gaze, letting his loving gaze wash over  
her and heal her sore emotions.  
  
"Take us home, Adam."  
  
*****  
  
Moscow, once the crowning jewel in a revived nation's new order of freedom, now the burned  
out wreckage of dreams lost to evil. Oliver White stood sentry in the darkness of a half  
crumbled wall, staring out into the night. He wondered, briefly, what was happening across the  
oceans, where he and Lass and Pritchett had raided an Imperial facility for medical supplies. He  
felt a twinge of pain at the thought of the loss of Terry in last night's bombing, but it was a loss  
that paled before the possibility that Lass Thompson would not awake from her coma.  
  
It was this fear that kept Oliver on post this night, when by all rights he could have been resting.  
There was no real threat here in the city had once been called Moscow. Only a few even  
remembered it existed. During the war of Eckhart's aggression, it had been destroyed by atomic  
weapons and, later, by chemical arsenals.  
  
As it was with all monsters, there was no limit on what Mason Eckhart was willing to do to  
achieve his twisted goals. No man such as he would hesitate to slay millions of innocent women  
and children. Nor would he reign in the unholy armies he'd built.  
  
"This inhuman play casts humanity as its own plague." Oliver muttered as he listened to the silent  
cold of the tundra. The words were his, though they didn't sound it. Before he'd become a  
rebel fighter, Oliver White had been a playwright. It was one of his fondest memories to have  
performed on the stages of the world. Then the soldiers had come during one of his more  
controversial works. He'd been tortured to the edge of sanity and some nights, he still had  
nightmares about the things done to him.  
  
A chill wind crept up and whispered to Oliver's senses. He listened and knew that someone  
was approaching him from behind.  
  
"Friend or foe?" He asked, using his powers to catch the words in a gust of air and toss them  
over his shoulder. They sounded like any words blown by wind, like echoes from a another  
world or time.  
  
"Depends on how you view superior officers." A deep voice grumbled back.  
  
Oliver turned and found himself staring at a man's stomach. He looked up and found a face  
worn by time, war, life, and everything else that could happen to a soul. A salute formed  
before he consciously and vocally identified the very large man. "General Longstreet, Sir. you're  
the last person I expected out here."  
  
General Bo Longstreet nodded. "Angel asked me to talk to you. Said you were losing faith."  
  
Silence stretched, purred, and curled up around their heels in delight. After several minutes of  
merely staring back at the mountain man of a General, Oliver finally drew a deep breath and let  
it out slowly before speaking. "I'm committed to the war, Sir. You don't have to worry about  
that." He glanced back over his shoulder, feeling a twinge of something curiously out of place  
on the tundra.  
  
'Just an animal,' he thought, dismissing a stray thought that it had been an unusually large animal.  
  
"I'm not concerned about you're commitment as a soldier," General Bo Longstreet rumbled in  
his deep and fatherly voice. "I'm worried about your faith in victory." He nodded when Oliver  
did not look him in the eyes a second time. Angel and he had already spoken to countless  
refuges, giving them what little hope they could. He'd brought faith back to many of his fellow  
soldiers on this night and given a measure of comfort to those who'd lost loved ones.  
  
Now, Bo was tired and knew that the words meant nothing to Oliver. At some level, a place  
beyond mere instinct, that nothing he could say or do would help this man. Except perhaps  
one thing.  
  
"Go. I'll take this shift." Bo Longstreet gripped Oliver's shoulder and practically tossed the  
confused man back toward the makeshift barracks. "Tell Angel we'll give that speech later  
tonight."  
  
Not certain how to respond to the sudden discharge from the duty he'd volunteered for, Oliver  
muttered a respectful "thank you" and started walking. At first, he wasn't sure where he was  
going to end up. Then, inevitably, his feet found their way to Medic's Hall, the only structure  
in town that was completely intact. All of the wounded and dying were here. Oliver walked in  
and went immediately to the Feral wing and Lass Thompson, who was still unconscious in a  
minor coma.  
  
He sat in a chair that some solider/nurse had provided for him earlier. It was a rough affair,  
crafted rapidly from a long. It was almost a stool or a small table. Oliver didn't complain  
though, he just sat and watched Lass breathing in and out for a few moments.  
  
"Just checking." He squeezed her hand, shivered at the cold there, and hoped for a miracle.  
  
"She's doing better, they say." Someone familiar said behind him. Oliver turned and found the  
other General Longstreet, the lovely and lethal Angel, standing in a pose that seemed almost like  
a statue that should have been. "The doctors believe she'll wake up. A psionic checked her out  
and she agrees."  
  
"Thank you for telling me, General. The other General Longstreet wanted me to tell you that you  
should give your speech later."  
  
Angel nodded. "I expected he'd say that." And then she turned and walked away, leaving  
Oliver alone with Lass.  
  
In the silence of the long night, as the cold winds of the frozen landscape whispered outside,  
Oliver sat beside his friend. Minutes passed into hours with nothing happening except a solider  
screaming in the Molecular wing, screaming for so long that it became background noise like the  
wind.  
  
As the night grew longer and more laden with foreboding, Oliver slipped into a light sleep.  
When he felt a weak pressure against his fingers, a blurry dream of his former life as a playwright  
made him think he was shaking someone's hand at an award ceremony.  
  
"I'm happy to accept." Oliver muttered even as his eye lids peeled back and blinked away the  
remnants of sleep. It took him a fraction of a second to see Lass Thompson sitting up in the  
cot, her eyes focused on him. Her hand was clutching at his to anchor her in the real world.  
"Lass? You're awake!" He said with a gleeful little smile.  
  
Lass managed a chuckle. "I just. . . needed a little. . . nap." She said, breaking for breath and  
to gather her thoughts. Her lips were dry and cracked, her tongue sluggish, but she made  
herself speak. "Pritchett?"  
  
Oliver shook his head. "He didn't make it. I. . ." His voice trailed off and all he could do was  
spread his hands in sorrow. As Oliver was about to go on, a shrill squeal filled the room. The  
intercom system was old, jury-rigged from broken parts, and barely worked. Still, it managed  
to carry the voices of Bo and Angel Longstreet across the desolate ruins.  
  
"Attention all soldiers and civilians. Attention. This is General Angel Longstreet." The speech  
began, for surely this was the delayed one that Oliver had been made aware of. "Recent  
events in the Imperial Capital have just come to light. One of our cells there has proof that our  
prayers have, at long last, been answered." She paused and Bo Longstreet spoke.  
  
"Yesterday night, Capital time, two blips appeared on Imperial Bioscanners. Our agents had  
now identified those blips as Emma DeLauro and Adam Kane, the first two members of  
Mutant X to disappear."  
  
Angel's voice filled the speakers as all of Medic's Hall, probably all of Moscow, fell dead  
silent. "Adam and Emma had avoided Mason Eckhart's forces on their own for a day and a  
half. All of our intelligence indicates that they will head for the former headquarters of Mutant X,  
a place called Sanctuary." She paused and then, drawing a deep breath, proceeded. "I know  
that this is a shock to many of you, that some will not believe. But you must listen and you must  
believe. We've been granted a miracle and we must seize it. In a few hours, we will be moving  
out. Every able-bodied individual must prepare."  
  
Bo Longstreet's voice boomed out of the speakers as Oliver felt Lass' hand tighten around his  
own. "The time to strike at the heart of our enemy is finally at hand. We will steal from Eckhart  
the one prize that has eluded him his entire life: revenge on Adam Kane. And with Adam and  
Emma on our side, we will gain an edge that will let us finally destroy the Empire of Supremacy  
and free all of humanity from the rule of a monster. We will have victory."  
  
The intercom went silent then. Perhaps it shorted out, cutting off the last of the speech. Maybe  
it was over, short and sweet and to the point. Whatever the cause of silence, it lasted for a  
while as soldiers struggled with the revelation that victory might finally be at hand.  
  
"Oliver?" Lass spoke from the cot still, her strength slow in returning, despite the medicines  
given to her by the doctors. "Promise me. . . that you'll save them. I know. . . you don't really  
believe, but. . . this really is our only chance." She slipped back down against the thin mattress  
and thinner pillow. "Promise me?"  
  
The rational and often cold side of Oliver wanted to laugh off the importance of two more  
soldiers in a cause that had already devoured millions. Part of him wanted to just scream,  
because he really didn't believe that there was any hope, with or without the almost mythical  
Mutant X. In the end, what he did was squeeze Lass' hand tight and lean close to her face,  
almost as if to kiss her but only to whisper in her ear.  
  
"I promise."  
  
*****  
  
In the backroom of a bookstore, hidden from the world and the cruel marauders who paraded  
up and down the streets of the Capital, a secret meeting was taking place between Cynthia  
Bochner, the store's owner, and a certain motel clerk from a certain motel where a certain  
couple had spent the night. "So, did they get on their way alright? Or should I start screaming  
loudly while rolling around in a figure eight?" Cynthia asked as she ran a hand through her full  
mane of black hair.  
  
The clerk smirked. "Nah. No need for the wheel tricks my fair lady, they got off just fine." He  
winked at Cynthia conspiratorially. "They got off just fine last night too."  
  
"That's crass. Funny, but crass." She said with a smile.  
  
"Sorry. Not really, but sorry." The clerk said with a chuckle. "Anyway, I made sure to give our  
man at the old Mutant X club house a head's up. He said he's going to lower to cloaking shield  
and wait for them."  
  
"That's not exactly safe. What if Eckhart's killers get there first?"  
  
"He said he could handle them. Dude's pretty tough, he can probably manage. Assuming he  
doesn't forget their coming. Due is old."  
  
Cynthia nodded reluctantly and then let out a sigh. "I'm getting too disabled for this. I need a  
vacation. How about you?" She turned to the clerk and smiled at him, her green eyes glittering  
like shards of stained glass in a holy mosaic. "How does island fun and lots of sun sound? Or  
maybe just a sojourn into a nice, dark jungle that Eckhart's people have yet to go?"  
  
The clerk shook his head in amusement. "Lady, if your buying the umbrella drinks, I'm there.  
Better than here, considering we're going to be fugitives in like, what? A few hours?"  
  
As Cynthia started to shove her wheelchair forward, as the clerk started to take a step toward  
a bag she'd already packed, the wall which formed the back of the bookstore exploded,  
showering them with fragments of hardwood, concrete, and splintered metal. Even as the blast  
began, Cynthia used her Neo-mutant gifts to generate a psionic shield, impervious from the  
outside.  
  
Her instinct's extended it around the clerk, but he was too surprised by the blast to realize he  
was protected. The poor man stumbled backwards out of the shield. Cynthia tried to reform  
the shield quickly, but the clerk was dead before she could even think to protect him again.  
  
"By the order of the Emperor you are under arrest for the crime of treason." The words were  
spoken by a tall, blonde man with eyes like rivers of sorrow and cold. He could be only one  
person and Cynthia didn't have to wait long for him to identify himself. "I am Chief Interrogator  
Grant Van Negus. I am authorized to grant you a merciful life-imprisonment in the labor camps if  
you divulge the current whereabouts of Adam Kane and Emma DeLauro."  
  
"Well, since you asked so nicely." Cynthia said calmly as she smiled back at the monster.  
"They went to a magical fairy land where your boss dances around like the pathetic insect he  
really is."  
  
Van Negus was so startled by the blunt but sweetly stated treason. He stood for a few moments  
blinking stupidly, along with his companion, a sixteen-year-old girl who Cynthia recognized as  
the Emperor's pet. Even the Imperial Guard, who were ranked and filed six deep and six wide  
behind Van Negus, were startled into silence. The spell was broken finally by the girl, who  
started shouting incoherent gibberish about insulting God.  
  
"Kill the infidel!" The girl roared as her face contorted into a frightening fanatic face. "Send her  
to her outdated Savior for insulting our blessed Emperor! Kill her!" She commanded.  
  
Behind Grant and the girl, the Imperial Guard raised their various weapons and prepared to fire,  
heedless of those standing in front of them. In a split second, Grant snatched up the girl and  
dove for cover with her screaming out orders of death while being carried under one of the  
man's arms.  
  
Cynthia laughed at the display even as the Imperial Guard fired, delivering enough ordinance to  
her shield to buckle the hull of a few dozen tanks. She was still chuckling when they finally  
exhausted their ammo. "I'm a high order telekinetic. That mean's, for those of you without a  
kindergarten education, that you can't get in!" Cynthia wiped a tear from her eye as she  
started rolling forward, toward the most feared of the Empire's soldiers.  
  
In all honesty, she had felt the strain of holding the shield against their assault, she just didn't think  
they needed to know.  
  
"Stop her!" The girl cried from her place on the ground, partially covered and protected from  
injury by Grant. "Show her the might of His will! She her the power of the God Mason  
Eckhart!" Bloody straw hair flying in all directions, she struggled out from under her would be  
protector and ran straight for Cynthia. "I'll show you the power of the Emperor!"  
  
"Its your funeral." The wheelchair bound Neo-mutant muttered as she sent out a blast of force  
that pulverized the insane girl's bones on impact. She fell to the ground like a blob of jelly,  
alive for a few minutes before her organs collapsed upon themselves. "Who's next?" Cynthia  
asked in her friendly tone, still smiling in a way that now seemed like a frightful mask of a  
righteous archangel.  
  
She spotted Van Negus rising from the debris where he'd leapt to cover. Of all the servants of  
Mason Eckhart, he was the one best known and most feared. A boogeyman that killed without  
mercy and without any remorse. A tormentor who ripped into a person's mind in such a way as  
to leave a permanent stain on the psyche that never fully healed. It was an experience that one  
survivor, one of the few ever to be interrogated by Grant and not take their own life afterward,  
had described as being "like rape, only worse. He's in you mind, body, and soul."  
  
"I'd make the world a better place if I killed you high and mighty Chief Interrogator." She  
muttered as he turned to face her, his face set and ready for death, his hand raising a heavy  
caliber pistol. "Maybe you'd like to beg like one of your victims?"  
  
Grant frowned and aimed at Cynthia's head, even though he had no hope of breaking the shield  
around her. "I don't beg. I brutalize." He fired a single round that slammed into Cynthia's mind  
shield and crumpled against it.  
  
For a long moment, she stared at him, wondering what wicked and unholy training had made this  
man the killer he was. There were rumors of GSA programs that put recruits through virtually  
the foulest violations imaginable. Even knowing those horror stories, Cynthia couldn't  
conceive of a torment powerful enough to leave a man this heartless and casually sadistic. That  
was why she reached out with her power and seized Van Negus around the throat. She could  
feel her energy draining fast and knew that her only chance might be to use this man as a  
bargaining chip.  
  
"Get out of my way or he dies like that psycho imitating jelly." She nodded toward the remains  
of the girl, who she suddenly realized had never been named by any sources. Perhaps the  
Emperor hadn't deigned to give her a moniker? "Move out of the way!" Cynthia roared and  
the Imperial Guard reluctantly moved. They were sworn to guard Grant's life, sworn to the  
Emperor himself. Their loyalty knew no bounds.  
  
As Cynthia rolled toward freedom, her strength waning fast, she brought her shield close to her  
body and Grant with it. She whispered into his ear, "no matter what happens, I won't let you  
live to kill again." Which she said in a very pleasant voice with a sadly warm smile on her face.  
  
Grant said nothing. He did not fight her telekinetic hold on his throat. There was no fight in him.  
He just hung limp and waited for what would come next. Cynthia thought he might have been  
praying, though if he were she knew it was Eckhart.  
  
And then, as suddenly as the whole thing had begun, it ended. Cynthia felt a sharp pain in her  
head as her shield was struck by the only kind of blow that could truly break it down, a  
telekinetic blast honed to a fine point. Breaking apart suddenly, the shield disintegrated and  
Cynthia dropped Grant to his knees. Even as she tried to conjure a new shield, something cold  
and metal snapped at her neck and dug deep with metal fangs. Cynthia screamed in torment as  
the subdermal governor took away her gift and her only hope of survival.  
  
"Chief Interrogator." A voice that was cold and ruthless spoke from behind her. Suddenly,  
Cynthia was flying forward, shoved out of her wheelchair. "What would you do without me?"  
The voice asked as telekinetic force tore Cynthia's favorite wheelchair to shreds and easily  
bound her with them.  
  
From his place on the ground, Grant Van Negus turned around, his pistol having never left his  
hand now pointed at his savior. "What are you doing here Agent Curio? I thought I made it  
clear I wanted nothing to do with you." His voice was a little raw from having his throat almost  
crushed.  
  
Cynthia looked up and back to see a woman dressed in GSA black, her short black hair hanging  
in a style that wasn't a style. Her eyes brimming with rage and hunger. Though she was short,  
she seemed to tower over her victim and her superior alike. She was smiling, which frightened  
Cynthia more than anything else.  
  
"First, I just saved your life. Second, who cares what you want when the Emperor's victory is  
jeopardized? Third, I know where Adam and Emma are going. Finally," and now she pointed at  
Grant's gun but made no attempt to take it with her telekinetic gifts, "are you going to shoot me  
or thank me?"  
  
Grant lowered his pistol, but only after a long reflective period.  
  
*****  
  
As Emma sat at the controls of the Double Helix, she found herself grinning uncontrollably.  
Could it be hope that was making her smile, since she and Adam were on their way to  
Sanctuary? Maybe it was the way Adam kept stealing glances from his place beside her,  
manning various scanners and navigational systems. Possibly it was the familiarity of the Double  
Helix itself that made her feel at home for the first time since she'd arrived in the darkness of  
Eckhart's New World Order.  
  
Actually, Emma was barely restraining laughter because the situation was just too humorous.  
"Adam, did we really just steal the Double Helix from the children's wing of a museum?" She  
asked in a voice that broke at the end into a snicker.  
  
"Better question, did you see that security guard's face when we did it?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Now that was just crazy!" Emma laughed warmly and shook her head. They'd  
found something funny in this world at last. "Did you see him sniffing his coffee to see if someone  
spiked it? I've never seen a man look more confused in my entire life." She turned toward  
Adam and just smiled. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. No  
words were said, but she got the message across easily.  
  
"I love you too." Adam turned toward her and leaned sideways far enough to kiss her cheeks  
one at a time and then repeatedly peck at her lips.  
  
The Double Helix lurched in the air and they both remembered where they were. "Sorry. I  
forgot to fly for a second there." Emma said as she put her mind back on the controls. Then she  
remembered something and got the cutest and most seductive glimmer in her eyes. "You know,  
I seem to remember there being an autopilot on this bird."  
  
She flicked a switch and stood up, leaving the controls alone. Adam watched as she stepped  
across the few handfuls of millimeters that separated them. His heart beat faster and faster, like  
ocean waves crashing against a beach. Emma sat down in Adam's lap, wrapping her arms  
around him and bringing his face close. For a moment, he was afraid something would go wrong  
and spoil the perfection. He was afraid the autopilot wasn't set for Sanctuary.  
  
Emma kissed him softly and whispered into his ear, "don't worry, she knows her way home."  
  
"Reading my mind again? Haven't you dog-eared pages enough already?" Adam whispered  
back to her, though there was no reason to whisper at all.  
  
In response, Emma slid his shirt off. "I don't need to read your mind Adam. I already know you  
by heart. All I have to do is look into my soul and there you are." She kissed him again, more  
passionately yet with a tenderness that spoke volumes on the love between them.  
  
The trip from the Empire of Supremacy's Capital to Sanctuary was a long one. It was necessary  
for the Double Helix to fly at a diminished speed to avoid certain tracking systems. Time went  
by very quickly in the back of the ship, where cold metal alloys were massaged by contact with  
wantonly warm human flesh. Every minute of the three hour trip was spent in embrace. And as  
the Double Helix found its home and prepared for a landing, Adam and Emma held each other  
for a last few moments and shuddered with sensation.  
  
Then the ship landed and they wanted to exit so that they might once more walk the corridors  
and rooms of their home, the place their hearts would always return to. Dressed again, hands  
tightly clenched between them, Adam and Emma stood at the door. . . and hesitated.  
  
"I'm afraid." Emma said under her breath. "What if no one's here. Or what if they're here  
but. . ." She could not finish the terrible thought.  
  
Adam squeezed her hand hard, reassuring and comforting. "Don't think like that Emma.  
Shalimar and Jesse and Brennan, wherever they are, they are still alive. We'd know if they were  
dead. We'd know because they are our family." He took a deep breath and reached out,  
pressed a button, and opened the door.  
  
Sanctuary greeted them with a whiff of stale air scented with the faintest stench of decay. For  
one heartrending moment, Adam was suddenly certain that his and Emma's worst nightmares  
had come true. Then, as he walked out of the hanger and truly entered what had been his home  
and his prideful joy, he realized that the truth was worse.  
  
At some time in the thirty years that he and Emma had been absent, Sanctuary had been  
bombed. There were rough patches everywhere. Plates of steel welded carelessly over  
conduits while girders hung over head, literally tied to columns with thick bundles of old coaxial  
cable. Every footstep they took made tiny clouds of dust and soot rise. Emma sneezed and  
Adam mechanically handed her a handkerchief. The destruction and the desperate repairs to the  
structure spoke volumes to Adam. He could look at them and visualize every blast, every bomb  
fragment, that tore his beautiful Sanctuary to pieces.  
  
"Brennan wasn't here when the repairs were made." Adam muttered as he examined a plate  
seemingly nailed over a hole in a computer. "Jesse probably smashed these into place. Massed  
out, he'd be able to work faster that with a hammer." He looked over head, trying to  
understand the cables. "Shalimar wasn't here either. She'd do it with more finesse, more style.  
Even under fire, she's got that feral cat quality."  
  
Emma wasn't listening to Adam. She'd stepped away from him, wiping her suddenly twitching  
nose with his handkerchief. Her eyes were glued on a computer, sitting alone on a metal table, a  
tiny note tapped to it's screen. "Play me." She read and switched the machine on because, in  
the end, what other choice did she have?  
  
"I don't know how long I've got." The message began, words spoken by a disheveled Jesse  
Kilmartin, his face covered in ash and blood. Adam turned at the sound of the familiar voice.  
He was beside Emma in a heartbeat. "Charlotte and Evan are out on a mission, thank God, so  
this doesn't end with me. I don't know who you are, but I want to believe it's you Shal. I  
want you to know something, before they get here." Jesse looked over his shoulder as a fire  
blasted out from a corridor. He turned back, a sad smile on his face. "For the first time, I'm  
glad Adam and Emma aren't here. They'd have been heartbroken to see this place coming  
apart."  
  
The computer screen went blank for a moment. Emma drew a sharp breath. Adam felt his  
blood run cold. This message might be their only hope of learning the fate of Mutant X. It  
couldn't end so abruptly.  
  
It didn't. Electric current, so long withheld from the machine, started flowing again and Jesse  
reappeared. Now, he looked even more haggard, a terrible bruise forming around his left eye.  
"Sorry. Another bomb, the last damned one thankfully. That squadron got lucky, caught us  
while the stealth was offline. But they didn't get a signal back to Eckhart. Sanctuary's still safe."  
Again, the image of Jesse let a sad smile form on his face. "Not that it really matters any more.  
Shalimar, if you are the one listening to this, I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything before. Mostly,  
I'm sorry I wasn't more understanding in the beginning. You did the smart thing, the right thing,  
for the team. That's what makes this so hard."  
  
Again, darkness claimed the screen. Again, the few seconds of waiting hurt.  
  
Jesse came back, this time collapsed in a chair, looking like he was about to die. "Charlotte,  
Evan, if it is you two listening, thanks for everything you've done. Adam would have been proud  
of both of you. Emma too. I wish you'd both gotten to know her."  
  
On the computer screen, Jess turned around, alerted to a sound only he could hear. He  
disappeared into the darkened hanger. Emma glanced over her shoulder, impossibly thinking  
that he would come out of there and greet them.  
  
When Jesse came back, he looked sadder than they'd ever seen him. "Shalimar and Brennan  
are missing, I can't find a trace of them. I don't want to think they're dead but. . ." He broke  
into an uncontrolled sob for a few moments. "Sorry. You know me, I'm just too damned  
emotional sometimes. Guys, I just want you to remember something. No matter what happens to  
me, you have to keep searching. Adam and Emma are out there."  
  
"They never stopped looking for us." Emma whispered. Adam clutched her hand as if his life  
depended on the contact.  
  
"I have to take the Double Helix. Whoever you are, please, don't hate me for what I'm doing.  
If I stay here, I'll just linger. If I go underground, maybe I can keep the war going. I'll leave the  
stealth system on. Only Mutant X members have the codes. Past and present." Jesse leaned  
forward and there were tears in his eyes. "Listen to me. The dream isn't dead. Dreams can't die  
as long as just one person is willing to fight, willing to stand against Eckhart and any totalitarian  
terrorist. Remember, whoever you are, the names Adam Kane, Emma DeLauro, Shalimar Fox,  
Brennan Mulwray, Charlotte Cook, and Evan Dane. Remember me too, Jesse Kilmartin. We  
fought the good fight. We lived. Mutant X lived."  
  
The computer went dark. There ended the message.  
  
Emma turned to Adam. He held her close. "We lived," she echoed Jesse's words, her throat  
tight with sorrow. "Adam, tell me there's a chance they're still alive. Tell me we'll find them."  
  
"We will. First, we've got to try and find a way back to our own time. If we can go back, we  
can prevent all of this."  
  
The words were softly whispered into Emma's ear and she loved them, as she loved the  
speaker. "We'll fix everything."  
  
From behind Adam and Emma came a sound. It was like a metal lighter flicking open, only with  
a strangely organic tone. They spun around, ready to face anything. A man stood before them,  
dressed in what might once have been a leather coat, shirt and vest, long pants, and leather  
shoes. Years of wear had left his clothes tattered shades of their former glory. His face was just  
as aged, his hair gone. He looked brittle and ancient. He was pointing his hand at them and his  
fingertips danced with tiny fireworks.  
  
"Who are you?" He asked, his voice hollow.  
  
"Same question." Emma barked at him.  
  
The man blinked and clenched his hand tightly into a fist. Energy pulsed from between his  
fingers, though it had yet to do anything but be a pretty light show. "My name is Evan Dane.  
And I am the last living member of Mutant X."  
  
His words took Emma's breath away and she fell to her knees. Adam was down beside her,  
holding her and running his hand through her short black hair. "He's wrong Emma, he's wrong."  
Adam whispered to her.  
  
Evan took a step backwards. "Emma? As in Emma DeLauro?" He glanced at Adam. "God,  
can it be? Adam Kane? Alive?" The old man let the explosive energy disappear from his finger  
tips. "At long last, you're back, the both of you are back! Jesse was right after all! I'd lost all  
hope but here you are!"  
  
Emma looked up to see Evan Dane, practically a living skeleton of a man, dancing around like a  
child. His eyes were filled with such pure joy. It reminded her of the awe she'd seen in Trudie's  
eyes. "Please, just calm down." She said, trying not to end the sentence with something  
condescending.  
  
"I may look like a tottering old man, but I've still got plenty of fight in me." Evan grumbled by  
way of answer. Oddly, it seemed that just realizing who they were and that hope still lived, had  
rejuvenated him. For a moment, Emma thought she could picture the man he'd been when he'd  
joined the diminished Mutant X team to fight Gabriel Ashlocke and, later, Mason Eckhart. "I'll  
do anything I can to help you. We'll bring down this nightmare of an empire. Mutant X lives—"  
  
A single shot rang out in the corridors of Sanctuary. Evan Dane looked down at a neat hole in  
his chest. Crimson was rapidly soaking his old shirt and vest. He raised his head and looked up  
at them, his eyes wide with surprise. "Again." He whispered, finishing his sentence before  
collapsing to the floor.  
  
Adam and Emma turned around. Coming out of the shadows of the hanger, cloaked in a black  
coat and grey shirt and pants, came a petite woman with short black hair. She held a scanner of  
some sort in her hand. "The Double Helix had a homing beacon on it. The Emperor knew you'd  
steal it and fly it here. He knew."  
  
Beside the woman, a tall and imposing man with a long mane of blonde hair came. He was like  
a nordic god with eyes like frozen rage and a face fit for an infernal king. "I am Chief  
Interrogator Grant Van Negus. By the power of the Emperor Of Supremacy Mason Eckhart, I  
am placing you under arrest." He held a pistol in his hand. Though it did not smoke, it was  
more than enough proof to condemn him for Evan's murder.  
  
Behind the two of them were rank and file of white clad soldiers, all armed with strange weapons  
that looked like some sort of launchers.  
  
Emma and Adam didn't move, didn't even breath. They were outnumbered and completely  
outclassed. Slowly, they joined hands.  
  
From the floor behind them, Evan Dane rose a few inches. He was only a few scant seconds  
away from death. "Van Negus!" He shouted and everyone looked at him in surprise. Before  
Grant could take aim and finish the job he'd started, Evan said his final words, blood oozing  
from between his teeth. "It's over." Then his entire body began to surge with explosive power  
as he reached into himself and started a chain reaction within his own body.  
  
There was no time for words, only action. Emma fired off a psi-blast at Van Negus, even as  
Adam dove into her. They rolled together, ending up just beyond a piece of metal that had  
fallen from the ceiling and never been moved. As the psi-blast struck Grant, he fired a random  
shot, that ricocheted off a wall and swished past Adam and Emma's faces as they clutched at  
each other, waiting for the blast. Evan's body started to vibrate and energy surged off it.  
Valerie Curio raised a telekinetic shield around herself and Grant. Emma felt the action because  
of the sense of triumph that filled the heartless GSA woman. Then Evan's body exploded and  
the world vanished in a flaring of white light. The blast wave found its way around the barrier  
and hit Adam and Emma, knocking them backwards five meters until their backs met the steps  
leading up the Dojo's training circle.  
  
Emma lost consciousness just as Valerie Curio started laughing.  
  
*****  
  
First, there was pain. Not the blinding torment of the time jump to this future, but a splitting  
headache that no amount of alcohol could ever duplicate. "Where am I?" Emma asked as she  
tried to sit up. At least, she thought that was what she asked. Her voice sounded like it  
was coming up from a very deep well. And there was a ringing in her ears. The explosive  
demise of Evan Dane had left her a legacy of sorrow and pain. "My ears aren't working right."  
She muttered as a wave of nausea accompanied her vision blurring.  
  
'I've probably got a concussion.' Emma thought as she lay back down on what felt like a thin  
mattress. 'Adam, what happened to him?' She looked around her, trying to see through the  
haze to find his familiar and handsome face, his amazing body, any hint of him alive and whole.  
  
Emma was alone in the back of some sort of vehicle. She didn't remember anything beyond the  
death of Evan Dane. His last act, dying from the bullet in his heart, was to use his powers to try  
and take down his enemy. It was heroic and tragic and ultimately futile. Grant Van Negus lived,  
protected by GS agent Valerie Curio's telekinetic powers. What Emma wanted to know, as she  
lay there, was what had happened to Adam.  
  
"Adam." Her whisper was a desperate plea to God. "Please, don't let him be dead. Take me  
instead." She closed her eyes and hoped for the trade. Then she sensed light falling across her  
face. Looking up, a man's form was backlit from a high-tech cockpit that put the Double Helix  
to shame.  
  
The man who came toward Emma wore a uniform, but it was neither the black of the GSA nor  
the white of the Imperial Guard. It was green and mottled, like a US Army fatigues. "Ms.  
DeLauro, my name is Oliver White. I'm part of the rebel movement to take back the world  
from Mason Eckhart." The man smiled at her and knelt down, his eyes holding a sad light that  
captured Emma's attention immediately because it reminded her of Adam's eyes. She found it  
comforting to see a man with such eyes in this terrible world.  
  
"Where's Adam?" Emma asked as Oliver started to check her vitals, first with fingers and ear,  
then with various machines. At first, she thought he'd not heard her. "Adam, what happened  
to him?" She asked again, her voice growing more concerned and worried.  
  
'God, please don't let him be dead. I love him and I only just realized it. Please, don't take him  
from me.' Her thoughts were filled with a terrible certainty that it was already too late to pray.  
Emma found the strength to sit up again and reach out, take a hold of Oliver's uniform, and pull  
herself close to him.  
  
"Is he dead?" She asked and almost passed out before he could answer.  
  
Oliver helped her back to the mattress. "Ms. DeLauro, you have to lie here and let the medicine  
we gave you do its job. Blue No. 2 might be a wonder drug but its not an instant cure." Perhaps  
to comfort her, or perhaps to steady himself as a bout of turbulence hit, he placed his hand on  
her shoulder.  
  
The contact made her flinch with the certainty that Adam was dead.  
  
"Emma. Look at me." She raised her head just slightly and gazed into Oliver's sad eyes, the  
eyes of a man who thought himself incapable of love or hope, eyes with that same sadness that  
lingered in Adam's. She wanted to weep but didn't have the strength to bare the sobs that  
needed to come. Oliver leaned down so that he was staring into her eyes as deeply as possible.  
He spoke seven words, two sentences, and gave Emma both hope and the worst fear she'd  
ever known.  
  
"Adam is alive. Van Negus took him."  
  
END OF PART FIVE 


	6. The Twist Of The Knife

Part Six:  
The Twist of The Knife  
In the space of a heartbeat, the world can change drastically. Adam's heart was beating hard,  
rushing blood through his trembling veins. For the first time since his ravaging entrance into the  
world of Mason Eckhart's Empire, he was on his way to face the enemy. His hands were  
bound behind his back. Strands of sharp wire twisted about his wrists, cutting the skin. A drop  
would splatter on the floor every time he took a deep breath. Vanished was fear, but Adam  
could feel a cold numbness gripping him, a silent rage that he'd never felt before. There had  
always been a part of him willing to believe that anyone could be redeemed no matter how far  
gone.  
  
Now, he'd decided only primal corporeal punishment was appropriate. Eckhart had made an  
army of soulless monsters, enslaved humanity, and destroyed all traces of history and hope.  
Adam's heart ached for retribution and justice. Laying on the floor in the same place where he'd  
been hastily tossed, Adam waited for the moment he could do something, anything, and save  
himself. Instinctively, he knew that Emma wasn't with him. He could feel her absence. At first,  
he'd feared that she was dead.  
  
Then he'd become aware of the heated argument around him. Grant Van Negus sat at one end  
of a relatively spacious room on what Adam imagined was a transport ship. Across from him  
and farthest from Adam sat Valerie Curio. Neither seemed to have noticed when he'd first  
woken up, so he kept still and listened as they screamed back and forth at each other, their  
arguments becoming increasingly more violent. Van Negus especially showed signs of a  
deteriorating facade of calm.  
  
"You listen to me you damned whelp!" Grant roared suddenly and rose to his full height, almost  
smashing his head against the ceiling. "I don't care if the Emperor has decided to make you my  
second in command and I don't care what the rebel rats are doing! I'm not going to turn this ship  
around to correct your mistake!" Rather than make a weak gesture of finger pointing, Grant  
thrust his entire fist at Valerie, almost as if he thought to strike her but changed his mind at the  
last second.  
  
"My mistake? My mistake! Are you out of your mind? The only mistake I've made in this entire  
operation has been to trust your judgment." Valerie Curio snarled from her comfortable seat  
near the front. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw her smile faintly. It was a knowing smile.  
She held cards in this game that she thought were trump to be sure. The way she glared at  
Van Negus indicated a complete lack of fear. Yet, he could see something else there, an  
affection of sorts. She liked him.  
  
A great sigh escaped the man's lips as he visibly reigned in his temper. He sat slowly and gritted  
his teeth. "I have made errors. I can admit that. A Chief Interrogator has to be able to recognize  
his own faults."  
  
"Nice to know."  
  
Speaking in a tone so cold and hate filled that even Valerie started to get nervous, Van Negus  
continued. "Nevertheless, we are both relatively blameless in this affair. Not even the Emperor  
could have predicted that the rebels would go on the offensive. Madness." He shook his head  
in astonishment and annoyance. "To take half the prize from our hands. . . they must lead  
charmed lives."  
  
Valerie ran a hand through the disheveled strands of her black hair, what little there was of it.  
"No. They are simply enjoying a brief invincibility brought on by suicidal martyrdom. It won't  
take more than a day to put them all down. It's not like they're in the Capitol. Yet." Carelessly,  
she fingered a strand of hair that bobbed over one eye. "The rebels can't win."  
  
Still pretending to be unconscious, probably looking bad enough to pass for a corpse, Adam  
smirked inside and wanted to say words the effect of "yeah, just keep telling yourselves that and  
maybe, just maybe, the big bad rebel boogeymen will go away!" Unspoken taunts aside, he felt  
extraordinarily relieved to know that Emma was with the rebels. She might not be safe exactly,  
but she had a chance. Of all the Mutant X team, she was the best at taking chances and coming  
out on top.  
  
A sudden chuckle from Grant interrupted his thoughts. "Every gambler has to lose sometime."  
The blonde man said with a smile on his face. It wasn't necessary to lean down and go boo  
beside Adam's head to get the point across.  
  
"Let me guess, you're a Psionic." Adam said as he opened his eyes and looked up at the huge  
man. From this angle, he seemed a mountain. Some of the grandeur had gone though. Van  
Negus was covered in ash, soot, blood, and sweat. He looked like a man who needed a long  
vacation. Madness burned in his eyes.  
  
"Very good Adam. Now, perhaps you can answer a question for me." Grant leaned down, his  
eyes meeting his captive's, with the full intention of invading Adam's mind and plundered the vast  
cache of secrets there. With the knowledge he'd gain, Van Negus could easily ascend to a  
place at the Emperor's right hand, perhaps even take the throne himself one day. At the very  
moment his mind began to reach out, something hit the ship and exploded, knocking Grant  
against a wall. He shook his head in confusion, wondering what had just happened. "I'm going  
forward. Watch him." Grant snarled and practically flew to the cockpit.  
  
Valerie Curio stood up and walked toward Adam. She dropped low to one knee, her face a  
study in concern while her eyes radiated an opportunistic coldness. "Alone at last." Moving  
very slowly, she took a small hypodermic needle and an empty glass vial from a pocket inside  
her black coat. With all the care and skill of a hometown doctor, she inserted the needle into  
Adam's arm, drew back the plunger, filled the hypo with blood, and effortlessly transferred the  
sample to the vial.  
  
"You wont miss it." Valerie stashed the sample in her coat. "This will be our little secret. One  
of many. If you're willing to help me."  
  
The woman leaned down so that her face was millimeters from Adam's, eager for his reply.  
"Whatever deal you want to offer me or plot you want my help with, forget it." Adam said  
bluntly. Had he been less civilized, he would have spat in her face.  
  
"Don't be difficult Adam. Van Negus won't let me in now. The only way I can advance through  
him is by profiting from his mistakes. And he makes too few for my tastes." She reached out  
and placed a hand on Adam's shoulder in what was probably meant as a seductive gesture. It  
made his skin crawl. "You and I, we can work together. Inside of a month, we could replace  
Eckhart and rule in his place. All you have to do is—"  
  
Another explosion rocked the ship. Valerie was forced backwards and Adam almost followed,  
but the wires binding his wrists caught on the seat behind him. He screamed in pain as they bit  
into his flesh.  
  
"Damn it! Can't they keep a few rebels off our tails?" Valerie gasped as she got back to her  
feet. She barely got to a seat before the ship took another hit. This time, a horrible noise filled  
the ship, the sound of metal tearing apart. The ship was going to break up.  
  
Without thinking, Valerie used her powers. She meticulously constructed a telekinetic field  
around the ship. It was the first time in her life that she'd tried something so ambitious and it paid  
off. The ship held together but just barely. Sweat pouring down her face, Valerie knew that her  
abilities were at their limits. Another hit, she'd lose the field and they'd all die.  
  
A part of Adam hoped that they would die. The rebels might take his death and make it into a  
rallying cry. If being a martyr meant helping to bring down Eckhart, a part of Adam was eager  
to make the sacrifice. He could force the issue as Evan Dane had at the end, striking a final  
blow that would take some of the enemy down with him. Aside from wire binding his hands, he  
was unrestrained. Eckhart's people were nothing if not arrogant. The only thing that kept Adam  
from leaping on Valerie and ending it all right there and then was Emma. Her face welled up in  
memory. Her laugh, her touch, the way she sighed when they made love. Adam loved her too  
much to bare the thought of causing her pain by sacrificing himself. And he needed her.  
  
No more rebel missiles hit. Valerie Curio's telekinetic power kept the ship together. They  
landed inside the Citadel's main grounds, on a huge and conspicuously empty landing pad. As  
Adam was shoved out by Van Negus, he started to feel an inkling of hope.  
  
The entire area, which was obviously used as a motor pool for all manner of vehicles, was  
empty. Adam saw empty spaces that, given the dimensions of the ordered plots, probably  
served as tank parking. There was a long row of hangers that stood empty. And the most  
telling sign of all the rebellion was going far better than Eckhart could ever have imagined: people  
in GSA black and Imperial Guard white were running around in a near panic.  
  
"You! Come here!" Grant roared and grabbed the first person he came across, a frightened  
looking man in a uniform Adam hadn't seen before. "What's going on here? Why are you here?  
The Genetic Subjugation Service isn't supposed to waste time dealing with minor insurrections."  
  
The GSS man stared at Grant as if he'd grown four additional heads and sprouted wings, and all  
that while dancing around in a green leprechaun suit. When he spoke, his voice broke constantly  
from nervous fear. "Chief Interrogator Van Negus, this is not minor. Nothing about this is minor.  
The rebels have mobilized globally. They overran the GSS training center out there." He pointed  
toward the outer wall, indicating the Capitol city outside. "We were slaughtered, sir. The GSS is  
virtually extinct! The GSA lost four centers and a fifth is in danger! This isn't rebellion, it's a  
legitimate revolutionary uprising, a war of vengeance. The Emperor has ordered all personnel  
here to defend the Citadel."  
  
Valerie grabbed the GSS soldier and shook him violently. "We're falling back? Are you insane?  
It can't be that bad!"  
  
Before the man could reply, Adam snorted loudly. "You tried to enslave the world. What made  
you think the people would sit back and allow it. Was it arrogance or just plain stupidity?"  
  
"Shut up!" The voice belonged to the GSS trooper who also slammed a fist into Adam's  
stomach. He would have proceeded to beat him senseless, but Van Negus restrained him.  
  
"Control yourself! This animal is an important prisoner and he must be placed in holding! Give  
him to an Imperial Guard. Now! Take him." Van Negus heaved Adam into the GSS man's  
waiting hands. "Go, get him secured and then join me at the Alpha Five staging area. Tell any  
you see who have no important orders to go there. If the rebels want a fight I intend to give them  
a slaughter!" He spun on his heels, long blonde hair swishing behind him like a cape, heading for  
the staging area.  
  
Valerie didn't follow him, she turned and headed into the Citadel proper, the great tower. Her  
plans could only be guessed at.  
  
Shoved around by the GSS agent, Adam saw more evidence of collapse everywhere. GS  
agents were running around, obviously panicked. Several troop carriers were rolling by filled  
with scientists being evacuated. Most of all, Adam saw civilians every so often, people who  
obviously had no business in the Citadel, huddled in frightened packs.  
  
"Madness." The GSS man muttered, stopping constantly to alert other soldier's of Van Negus's  
orders. "This is blind panic!" He shoved Adam toward an Imperial Guard who was standing  
calmly at the door of a supply depot. As they neared him, an explosion roared outside the  
Citadel's walls. "No! Not another GSA base!"  
  
Without another word, the GSS man threw Adam at the Imperial Guard. Adam hit the man  
back first, his bound hands jamming against the guard's rock hard body. "Take him to holding.  
I'm getting out of here! Let the Chief Interrogator play the savior all he wants, but I'm not  
sticking around to see how good an actor he is!" The man was running before the last five  
words were out of his mouth.  
  
The Imperial Guard took Adam to a large warehouse type building. He opened the door and  
brought him to a cell near the back. With all the finesse of a bulldozer he tossed him in. A tad  
more graceful than the guard, Adam managed to roll, diverting most of the impact pain away.  
Still, he got some of the wind knocked from his chest. The Imperial Guard left him.  
  
"Well hello neighbor." A familiar voice came from the cell to Adam's right. He turned and  
found himself looking at Cynthia Bochner. Her clothes were tattered and there were a few  
blood stains, but otherwise she was just as Adam remembered her. She was even smiling an  
extraordinarily inappropriate smile. "I guess they got you too, huh?"  
  
*****  
  
The Chief of Medicine and Science entered the God Chamber. She was searching for her  
leader. "May I assume that you have a contingency plan for this moment?" Her voice was even  
and respectful despite the choice of words. Even now, as the Empire seemed poised on the  
brink of an abyss, she was loyal to Eckhart. "Is there a place for me in your plans?"  
  
A deeply ruthless, almost inhumanly savage voice came from the center of the chamber.  
Ostensibly standing at the central podium was a man in a long white lab coat, thinning grey hair  
crowning his head. The man turned and set eyes of winter storm upon the exotic Chief of  
Medicine and Science. "My plan calls for the immediate preparation of the experimental  
Hindsight system for use."  
  
Before the Chief could recover from the shock that froze her into silence, Eckhart smiled and  
said, "just in case." Turning away, Eckhart let a deep sigh out. "I grow weary of this. The  
constant waiting for this chamber to finally achieve it's destiny."  
  
The Chief of Medicine And Science essayed a brief laugh that was completely stagged. "I'm  
sure your long years of waiting will soon be over. The rebels will never penetrate our defenses."  
  
Eckhart did not look back as his blue gaze grew dark with rage. "Are you still here? Go and do  
what you've been ordered like an obedient lackey." Eckhart's head moved back and forth in  
the universal sign of pure annoyance. "Amateur. Even after these long years of training and rule,  
they are all still amateurs." One hand went to the podium that stood at the center of the room,  
directly in front of a single central pod and its lone occupant. "You were never an amateur.  
Burdened by them, yes, but never one with them. My master."  
  
Behind Eckhart, the Chief made a hasty retreat. Her mind was filled with his words, the  
darkness and frozen cruelty there. Deep inside, at the center most point of her thoughts, she was  
ruled by the desire to obey. She had always been his servant. Once, there had been hesitation,  
but now, there was only pure and unwavering loyalty.  
  
Standing at the podium in the center, reading a series of numbers that would have been  
incomprehensible to almost anyone else, Eckhart did not allow the Chief's pestering actions to  
linger. There were more important matters to attend to. One of those matters was the final  
countdown of the God Chamber's preparatory program. The other was a man in black who  
approached from deeper in the room.  
  
"I've rechecked every connection as per your orders. Every pod is functioning perfectly." The  
mystery man said in a voice that would have been instantly familiar to Adam or Emma. He took  
his place beside the central pod and drew a large caliber pistol from a holster under his arm. "I'll  
protect our master. You should administer the Empire."  
  
Eckhart sighed. "No. The time for bureaucracy is over. The rebels won't stand for my rule any  
longer. Perhaps they are even right to rebel." He reached out and keyed in a sequence that  
would change the world forever. "In a few hours, they will all die. Our master will make them  
forever wish they'd proudly shouted the name Mason Eckhart. For now, we will guard this  
place."  
  
The man chuckled and fingered the trigger guard of his pistol. "I wonder what the rebels will do  
when they realize that the Empire is being ruled by a god?"  
  
Eckhart allowed himself a dry laugh. "I imagine they will fall to their knees and beg for mercy.  
But they will have none." Certainty dripped from every word. The final countdown had begun  
and soon the world would welcome a new savior for the people, one untainted by useless charity  
or foolish love. Only power would rule the Empire of Supremacy. Only the power of Mason  
Eckhart. "They will die screaming."  
  
*****  
  
Outside the range of the Citadel's main guns, Emma DeLauro huddled behind the burned husk  
of an Imperial L-7 tank. Seconds ago, the huge machine had been rumbling forward, crushing  
civilians converted to rebels and rebels proper under huge treads while its twin machine guns  
mounted on the turret blazed death. Its main gun would have killed an approaching APC if  
Oliver White hadn't used his powers to send a chuck of concrete into the barrel. That had  
ended the tank's reign of terror and Emma had yet to see another of the lumbering monsters  
appear. At first, war machines had been thick on the ground. Rebels had picked them off one  
by one, willing to sacrifice themselves. General Bo Longstreet had personally destroyed six  
tanks with a launcher he'd built from scrap.  
  
Still, it wasn't enough. Anything that dared to violate the territory of the Citadel died horribly.  
The tower rose high from the earth, casting a mile long shadow of death. Its weapons were  
self-targeting and capable of prioritizing targets to assure maximum efficiency. Gas bombs,  
rocket propelled grenades, lead bullets, and even hissing lasers tore through the few who dared  
get too close. Occasionally, the defense systems even slew citizens.  
  
"Emma, over here!" Lass Thompson called from around the corner of a hastily prepared  
fortification, a wall of bodies and rubble. She waved a hand and almost got her fingers shot off.  
"On three! One. Two. Three!" A machine gun blazed to life as Lass rose from behind the wall,  
sighting from memory at the entrenched Imperial forces. Her own rifle chattered back. Six in  
GSA black and a woman in Imperial Guard white fell, only to be replaced by more of the  
enemy. They tried to kill Emma as she rushed to Lass's side but failed.  
  
"Nice moves. Hope you've got some more. I just got word from the Longstreets, we're making  
a run on the Citadel's walls. Oliver's already with them." Lass hit the ground as a loud whistle  
filled the air. Emma was right beside her, covering her head and praying. A mortar shell  
detonated further back in the rebel trenches. Return fire silenced the enemy launcher. "Great  
party, huh?" The Feral girl's voice shook with fear. Her equine DNA, shared with the best of  
race horses, had its drawbacks.  
  
There wasn't time to help her calm down, and Emma wasn't sure she would have used her  
powers on Lass anyway. The longer she was forced to deal with Eckhart's troops and the quiet  
slavery he'd imposed on the world, the more she came to regret her past abuses of power.  
Once, she'd used her powers to help sell clothes. That seemed another lifetime. Other times,  
she'd used her powers to make people do things. Until the moment she and Adam made love,  
let their minds briefly merge, she'd never told anyone about those other abuses. Now, as she  
crawled along in the mud behind Lass, she wondered how much penance was needed to undo  
those sins. If they could be undone at all.  
  
"How are we supposed to get past them?" Emma shouted as she inclined her head toward the  
enemy forces. In the last few hours, she'd witnessed the power of Eckhart's army and gained  
respect for the GSA. Near constant bombardments kept rebel forces from building up quickly,  
which gave their enemy time to set traps and fall back toward the Citadel. Within the walls of  
that unholy pillar of slaughter, Eckhart was the undisputed master.  
  
"We're not!" A voice called from behind Lass and Emma. They turned to find General Bo  
Longstreet crawling toward them, his mishmash rocket launcher slung over one shoulder. "We  
can't break their lines, at least not without air support. But we don't have to. Angel's found  
another way into the Citadel. Now put your head's down for a second!" He rose up, brought  
his weapon up, locked on a target, and fired a missile, all in the space it takes to blink. Even as  
enemy machine guns started to spray the wall, Bo was back down and grinning. An instant later,  
a blast wave hit the wall and made the ground tremble. "That should put the fear of God into  
them. Now, let's move!"  
  
Following Bo, they reached the others in a few minutes. "Good to see the two of you are still in  
fighting shape." Angel muttered as she snapped a fresh clip into her rifle. "Lass, Emma, I want  
you to listen very closely. We've only got one shot at this. One of our operatives has secured an  
enemy APC. He's going to fill it with explosives and ram the wall. We have to be in place at the  
right time or we won't be able to take advantage of the Imperial Guard's temporary death  
state." She raised her rifle and looked back over her shoulder at Oliver White.  
  
Listening in on a walkie-talkie, he glanced up and nodded. "Tyler's in place. Its now or never!"  
He said in a determined voice.  
  
"Then lets move out!" Angel started moving even as the words left her mouth. Rifle at the  
ready, eyes turning yellow with Feral perception, she was almost a machine. Bo came up beside  
her, just as determined in his gaze and demeanor. They had trained their entire lives for this  
moment. They were the last of Dark Star, the elite counter terrorism force. Today was their  
chance to prove to the world that tyranny would never succeed as long as there were people  
fighting for freedom and justice.  
  
They crawled and darted through debris and craters. The city was tearing itself apart. The  
invading rebels were spreading like a virus, fighting the unstoppable Imperial Guard to a  
standstill and briefly penetrating the enemy lines where there were only GSA and GSS troops.  
Simultaneously, even as they fell back, the soldiers of Eckhart's empire were unleashing all  
manner of weapons and mutant powers against their enemies. In the crossfire, civilians were  
dying. Some who lived sided with the rebels, forming rag tag militias that merged with the  
regulars to try and keep the momentum of battle in the rebel's favor. Other civilians, loyal to  
Eckhart's nightmare vision of the world, formed rouge cabals that took no quarter and asked for  
none in return. Massacres were occurring frequently. Old scores were being settled brutally.  
  
Emma felt everything around her and was numbed by it. The pain, the hate, the fear, and the  
passion for survival. Everyone who was fighting screamed out their emotions and she heard. It  
was deafening inside her head and every so often she had to try and make her barriers and walls  
against the tide stronger. So far, Emma had managed to keep her mind intact, but the longer she  
was forced to withstand the punishing waves of emotion, the harder it was becoming not to lose  
herself in the unwanted emotions. Still, she crawled on.  
  
Behind Emma, Lass and Oliver brought up the rear, each armed with rifles and ready to use  
them or their gifts. Considering how badly injured Lass had been only hours earlier, she  
should have been resting. Her body needed time to fully recover. Still, there was nothing Oliver  
had been able to say to prevent her from joining the fight. She was willing to die to stop  
Eckhart. And more than that, she felt a deeply religious need to protect Emma.  
  
In contrast, Oliver was in perfect shape physically, but mentally he was suffering. In the years  
he'd spent as a loyal citizen, he'd never imagined himself in this place. He'd never dreamed that  
the empire could be destroyed. Now, working with the rebels, the writer no longer believed in  
words like "forever." He'd lost his innocence when Eckhart's torture masters worked on him,  
trying to force a confession for treason from his throat. Despite all their efforts, he'd never given  
them what they wanted, he'd been innocent. The moment he was set free, he fled to the rebels.  
A part of him had died in those torture chambers. He knew he'd never write again. He didn't  
believe in anything now, nothing at all, save taking revenge for the long weeks of suffering and  
loss of his old life. Oliver wanted nothing else but vengeance.  
  
He glanced sideways at Lass, caught her eye for a moment. When she smiled back weakly and  
gave him a thumbs up, he realized that he wanted one more thing. He wanted Lass to survive.  
She was too good a person to die.  
  
Angel paused and signaled for quiet. Ears perked, she listened carefully to the music of warfare,  
trying to block everything except one sound. "An engine." She dragged herself another meter.  
Someone had erected a makeshift fortification here and Angel used it for protection as she  
glanced through a gap. "I see the Citadel's walls. Tyler must be about to ram the damn thing.  
Get ready to run." She turned toward Oliver and gave him a curt nod.  
  
A walkie-talkie went straight to his ear. "Alright Private Ryan. Time to save the world."  
  
Crouched in the muck, Emma felt a strange tingle of perception. The sensation was impossible  
to describe easily. It was like deja vu, only in reverse. It was a feeling that Emma didn't like.  
Her heart beat hard and she broke into a cold sweat. "Tyler Ryan." She muttered quietly.  
"Why does that name sound so familiar? Who is he?" She closed her eyes and tried to think.  
Nothing came to her, except a feeling, a terrible empty and cold sensation.  
  
The feeling of death.  
  
A blast wave slammed against the debris wall they were huddled behind. The force splashed  
over and smacked them, almost sending them rolling. It was followed by a terrible groaning  
roar, the sound of a god dying. Metal was twisting and stone was crumbling. People were  
screaming.  
  
"Move! Move! Tyler's brought down the wall!" Angel screamed as she leapt over the wall.  
Her rifle was in hand and snarling, putting down several GSS troops who were rushing forward  
with a large machine gun to defend the breach. Others turned and ran, accepting that their  
master was losing. "Come on! We've got to move!"  
  
Emma was the second one over the wall. She ran, her legs pounding and her heart throbbing.  
Her stomach threatened to lurch out of her belly. "Tyler." She whimpered, a terrible sadness  
filling her momentarily. She was confused, frightened, and grief-stricken without having any clue  
as to why, except that a rebel Private named Tyler Ryan had killed himself to open the Citadel to  
invasion. In the moment, racing across the battlefield, Emma dared not close her eyes, but she  
let herself envision Adam's face with perfect clarity. Every handsome line, the soft tenderness of  
his eyes, the smile on his lips when they'd just kissed. She focused on him and drowned grief  
and fear, made confusion a minor problem.  
  
"More troops are coming." Angel put a bullet into an Imperial Guard who had started to rise.  
"And this bunch of wannabe undead are starting to get back on their feet." She glanced back at  
them. "Bo, think we can keep this party from getting out of hand?"  
  
"Absolutely." He said with a dark grin, spinning downward and cracking a Guard's skull with  
his powerful fists.  
  
"You three, keep on with the mission. We'll protect your backs and divert the attention of  
anyone who's still fighting besides our pals in white. Now go!" General Angel Longstreet yelled  
as she brought her rifle to her shoulder and fired at another of the formerly dead.  
  
Oliver and Lass were on the move immediately, their eyes instantly focused on the unguarded  
Citadel entrance. Emma paused for a heartbeat, knowing that she might never see the  
Longstreets again. Then she turned, their image fixed in her memory, and ran. Lass was already  
at the door, shoving it aside. In a matter of seconds, the trio was within the central tower of the  
Citadel, a place known only to Eckhart's most loyal servants. A long hallway stretched before  
them, thousands of paintings adorning the walls. They walked deeper and deeper, glancing on  
occasion at the images.  
  
Many were pictures of Mason Eckhart, mostly done in a reverential and godlike manner. Others  
seemed to be attempts at capturing the look of the Mutant X team, but the majority of these  
were poorly done. Emma found herself staring at one portrait that might have been intended to  
look like her by its artist. "Looks more like my sister." She whispered under her breath,  
frowning at memories best left in the dark ether of history.  
  
Lass and Oliver didn't hear her as they turned a corner in the hallway. Someone loomed before  
them, starting in surprise. The rebels gasped, recognizing instantly the face of Grant Van Negus.  
Even as the Chief Interrogator drew back, his eyes narrowed with similar cognizance. A hand  
leapt for his pistol. Oliver raised his own hands and knocked the man backwards with a gust  
of wind. Lass was drawing her pistol as Emma stepped up behind them.  
  
"What the. . . ." She froze at the sight of the man who had been chasing her and Adam, the man  
who had killed Trudie Orion. Emma focused her mind, preparing a psi-bolt. Even as she released it, Oliver spun around and shoved her back around the corner. Her shot missed.  
  
Grant's did not. He brought his pistol up an instant before Lass could pull her own. His weapon  
roared and sent a bullet straight into Oliver's side. The rebel grunted and fell against the wall, a  
red stain forming and growing. A psi-bolt snaked across the short distance from Grant's  
forehead to Lass's simultaneously. She fell to the floor, suddenly overcome by the guilt that had  
been nagging at her for days, ever since she'd accidently killed a young GSA solider while on the  
raid with Oliver and Pritchett. Van Negus paid her no attention as he stepped past.  
  
He'd had a bit of good fortune at last. After forming a ragtag defense force, he'd returned to the  
Citadel for ammunition. It seemed a divine act of fate. He turned the corner, seeking his true  
prey. "DeLauro." His whisper was filled with hate and a steadily decaying sanity.  
  
Emma hit him with a psi-bolt the moment she saw him. She'd done it before, at Sanctuary, but  
this time she had a chance to let herself feel the result. For an instant, she sensed something  
inside of Grant Van Negus, a presence desperately seeking to be free, a core being imprisoned  
by hateful madness. As he stumbled backwards, shaking his head to clear it, she felt new  
barriers falling into place. Emma let loose another psi-bolt, this one even more penetrating and  
probing.  
  
Grant hissed and raised his pistol. "Get out of my head bitch!"  
  
He fired a single shot even as Emma began to break through to the core of his mind, to a place  
that had been sealed away. The bullet slid across the skin of her left arm, feeling no different  
than a tap. Her eyes darted downward and saw fabric slit neatly. She swung back to face Van  
Negus and hit him again, even as he aimed his pistol at her head.  
  
The effect was instantaneous. A loud gasp escaped from Grant's lips as he dropped his pistol.  
It clattered at his feet, spun for a moment, then settled even as he collapsed. Violent sobs  
started to explode from deep within him, a lifetime of guilt filled his mind and made Emma wince  
from the intensity. "Mom? Dad?" He asked suddenly, looking left and right, his voice pitched  
into a higher and broken form, like a child who had just started to become a man. This was the  
true Grant Van Negus, the boy who had joined the Eckhart Youth's and found himself in the  
White Room. His memories spilled out like water flowing from a damn and Emma was privy to  
it all. Grant screamed as he recalled his every action since the first programming session,  
beginning with the murder of his parents. In the hands of a twelve-year-old boy, the pistol had  
felt like a cannon. When it had roared, he'd been frightened. His trainers used the whips on him  
for feeling fear. Later, they practiced new interrogation techniques on him, involving every form  
of torture ever invented and some that existed only in this world. Van Negus wept and clutched  
at his head, finding himself moving through his life like a runaway car, smashing through the  
avenues of memory, feeling every victim's pain with perfect clarity.  
  
Understanding what Grant Van Negus truly was, a monster, a false persona, made by Eckhart's  
trainers, Emma found only pity in her heart for him. The boy he had been had idealistically  
wanted to serve his nation and had, instead, been transformed into a pitiless killer. She took a  
step toward him and reached out, touched his brow. Contact brought her a vision. The White  
Room appeared inside her head. Then a door opened in a wall. She saw through Grant's eyes  
as he walked into a cavernous room filled with shadows and little light. There was only enough  
to see the pods. Hundreds of thousands as far as the eye could see, and all circling a single  
central pod. Standing before that pod was Mason Eckhart, his back turned. Two words filled  
Emma's mind and she drew away from Grant with a gasp.  
  
"God Chamber. He's there, the Bad Man." He said, looking up at her with eyes wet with tears,  
lips trembling slightly. For such a huge man, easily as tall as Bo Longstreet, he seemed helpless.  
"Miss Emma, I've been a very bad boy, haven't I?" Van Negus asked, still in a child's voice.  
Somehow, part of his mind had remained the preteen who had been before the White Room  
created the monster. It was this persona, perhaps Grant's only true self, that spoke now. "I  
need to be punished. I need to go to sleep for a long time." His gaze feel down and settled on  
the pistol before him. "I'm afraid."  
  
"It's okay, honey." Emma whispered softly, reaching down and taking the weapon in her own  
hands. Shakily, she pointed it at Grant's sad face. "You can be at peace now." Her finger  
tightened on the trigger but somehow, she couldn't bring herself to shoot.  
  
"Please. I can't live with what I've done, even if they made me do it." The child's voice was  
sickeningly sincere and real, more human than the bellowing cruel utterances of a Chief  
Interrogator. The monster was gone and now its greatest victim begged for the peace that only  
death could bring. Before Emma could make herself fire, he grabbed the barrel and yanked the  
weapon forward, forcing her tensed finger to pull reflexively.  
  
Grant was dead before he hit the floor. Emma dropped the pistol, put a hand to her mouth, and  
almost threw up. Her breath came in hard choking breaths as she turned down a side hall. She  
started running, reaching out with her gifts to find the only person in the world who could make  
everything alright again.  
  
Only Adam, always Adam.  
  
*****  
  
"So we're screwed?" Cynthia asked as she propped herself up on one elbow. An eyebrow  
twitched upward and a wry smirk formed on her lips. She sighed. "Don't surprise me. Not  
really, you know? I always knew I'd go out like this. First the dramatic capture, then the  
relentless interrogation, probably some mind shattering trauma, and then pow!" Two fingers  
zipped to her forehead. "One clean kill shot. No more Cynthia Bochner. Every rebel that tries  
to setup here in the capital gets dead eventually."  
  
One cell over, Adam was watching the lone prison guard at his station. He'd been listening to  
Cynthia's voice for the last few minutes. She reminded him of Emma in some ways, the same  
dark hair and quirky sense of humor. The difference between them was that Emma could be  
serious and Cynthia seemed almost incapable of it.  
  
"In about two minutes, he's going to leave his post for about thirty seconds."  
  
Cynthia either didn't hear him or failed to care. "Anyway, it wouldn't really matter if my cell  
door were open. With this governor on me, I can't use my powers. That means, no telekinetic  
crutches to get me out of here." She flopped onto her back and raised her hands into the air. "I  
mean, look at me! I'm so completely helpless without functional legs or at least a decent  
wheelchair that they didn't even try to restrain me beyond the governor." A snort. "I'm vaguely  
insulted by that."  
  
"Um, Cynthia."  
  
"And you know what really bugs me, Adam?" Again, she wasn't listening to him. "You and I,  
we could really do some damage if we could get free. Seriously, put me in a chair and point me  
in the right direction, I'll smash things left and right with my telekinesis. And I'll bet you could  
give them all kinds of hell if you could find a computer terminal." Cynthia sighed and rolled her  
eyes. "Too bad you and I don't have a key, huh?" She glanced over at Adam, ready to listen  
to him for the first time.  
  
Adam stared at her for a moment. "Actually, we do." He pulled something out of a pocket and  
held it up. A tiny ivory key sat in his open palm. "I managed to lift it off the Imperial Guard who  
brought me here. Now, if you can be serious for a moment perhaps we can get loose and do  
some of that damage you were talking about." He smiled at her.  
  
"I think I'm starting to understand why there's a church of Adam and Emma." Cynthia muttered  
quietly. "What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Pray." He muttered. Even as she started to ask what he meant, the guard walked calmly out of  
his station and out the door. Adam was on his feet in a heartbeat, reaching out, steady fingers  
unlocking his cell. Careful not to make any unnecessary noise, he opened the door and started  
moving toward the guard station. Every second that ticked by seemed an eternity. At the door,  
Adam hesitated. His eyes went left and right. He ducked sideways, hid in the shadows, pulled  
his body as close to the wall as he could.  
  
The guard came back inside, only a few seconds after Adam was hidden. "I hate this job." The  
man grumbled as he started to open the door to his station. Suddenly, he felt a sharp blow. He  
collapsed in a heap with Adam standing over him.  
  
"That was almost too easy." Kneeling down, Adam quickly searched the man and found a  
control that seemed exactly the kind of device Eckhart's subdermal governors would use.  
"Definitely too easy." He whispered, feeling an uncertain dread creeping into his body. Could  
Eckhart want him to escape? The idea seemed crazy, but then again, Mason wasn't exactly  
stable. Adam shook his head and ran back to Cynthia's cell. "If it's a trap, it's a trap."  
  
"What's that about a trap?" Cynthia asked as her cell was opened. Not answering, Adam  
quickly used the control device to switch off her governor. As he keyed in the last sequence, a  
psychic blast struck him like a fist.  
  
"Emma!" Adam yelled, wincing as a sensation of extreme guilt and need ran through his entire  
body. "I have to go to her. Cynthia, will you be okay by yourself?"  
  
She smiled. "Go. I'm paraplegic, not an invalid. I mean. . . oh just go!"  
  
Shaking his head and trying to feel where Emma's psionic cry for help had come from, Adam  
ran from the prison. Outside, fires burned everywhere. They lit the dying day brighter than mid  
afternoon. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focused his mind and tried to reach out  
to Emma. Though he wasn't a Psionic, they shared a bond now. Something tugged at his  
senses and drew his eyes to the Citadel tower, the black symbol of Eckhart's ultimate power  
over the world. It was marred now by scorch marks and cracks in the stone and metal work.  
The rebels were accomplishing the impossible.  
  
"Emma." He felt her crying out again and an image of a white room appeared in his brain. It  
was cold and hostile looking, with a brainwashing system set up. "No. Oh God, they've got  
her!" Adam ran for the Citadel tower, heedless of any danger. He had to save her. He'd die  
before he let anyone harm her. In that moment, Adam realized, truly realized, just how much he  
loved Emma DeLauro. "I swear, if we come through this hell alive, I'm going to spend the rest  
of our lives making her happy."  
  
With those words filling his soul with a hopeful light, Adam entered the twisting corridors of the  
tower, unaware of the final dark revelation that awaited him in the God Chamber. As he  
searched, letting his heart guide him, he drew ever closer to an encounter that would test the very  
limits of his sanity. How Adam handled the darkness would ultimately decide his fate. With  
every urgent stride, he closed the gap between himself, Emma, and an unholy evil beyond  
redemption.  
  
*****  
  
In a room far from the God Chamber, The Chief of Medicine and Science activated machines  
and programed codes that would set the vast mechanism of Hindsight into motion. Power  
surged through lifeless metal. A shiver of delight ran down the Chief's spine. Her heart pounded  
with anticipation. "I'll be a hero to the Empire. This machine, my greatest achievement of all  
time, will be my Emperor's salvation!"  
  
As the words left her mouth, the Chief felt cold steel press against her ear. The world seemed to  
freeze in that moment. Her whole existence became that single startling sensation, lifeless metal  
squeezed up against her endlessly clever head.  
  
"Then it can be mine too." A woman whispered emotionlessly. "Come with me bitch, you've  
got work to do."  
  
"Valerie?" The Chief sounded flabbergasted by the identity of her attacker. "You cannot do  
this. You are a loyal soldier of the GSA, a single cog in Emperor Eckhart's mighty war  
machine!"  
  
"Don't suppose you'd notice it, but our dear leader's war machine is broken and this 'cog' has  
no intention of ending up on the scrap heap. And just for the record," Valerie reached out and  
dropped something in front of her hostage's eyes. It fluttered downward, a torn and frayed  
stripe of cloth. It was an insignia patch for Valerie's unit of the GSA. "I've decided to retire."  
  
The Chief stood like a statue. "You can't do this! I must monitor Hindsight and protect it! If the  
rebels were to gain control of it," she shook her head. "No, I must not even consider such a  
thing! Agent Curio, you must rethink what you are doing. The Emperor will reward your loyalty  
if you help me." Her voice was emotionless and calm. "Surely I trained you better than this."  
  
A loud click filled the room as Valerie drew back the hammer of her pistol, preparing the  
weapon for immediate use. She leaned in close to the Chief of Medicine and Science, so close  
that her breath tickled the hairs at the back of her neck. "You trained me quite well. But  
considering how you trained me, the methods you employed, do you really believe that I won't  
kill you?" Her voice was filled with hate so powerful that it seemed to burn the air around the  
Chief's ear.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" The dark skinned woman asked finally.  
  
Valerie smiled. "Take me to your lab. Point out anything useful, stuff it in a bag, grab some  
medical kits, and then help me to save my own life. Do that and maybe you get to go on  
breathing." Her face twisted into a sneer. "Maybe."  
  
*****  
  
"Oliver? Wake up, please, Oliver. Don't leave me." Voice as soft like an angel's whisper, Lass  
Thompson knelt beside her fallen comrade. In her heart, she knew that she should have gone  
after Emma, but her legs didn't want to move. She touched Oliver's neck, felt a thready pulse  
there. "Please, don't die." The words weren't a command but a plea of utter desperation and  
perhaps a prayer as well. Lass had been knocked senseless by Van Negus's psi-bolt. Now  
that he was dead, she'd recovered, though the guilt was still there.  
  
"I'm sorry. If I'd been a little faster, I could have shot him before. . . I'm sorry." She shook her  
head, which made her long blonde hair sweep back and forth across his face. An explosion  
outside made her jerk with fear and then weep with self loathing. "Damn it! Why couldn't I have  
been a real Feral like General Longstreet or Shalimar Fox? If it weren't for this equine  
skittishness, I could have been a better soldier. Maybe then I could have stopped that monster  
from shooting you." Lass started crying and buried her face against Oliver's shirt.  
  
Rebel forces still hadn't broken through the Citadel's defenses. The Longstreets hadn't called in  
either. They could be dead. Lass had no medical supplies and she was horribly certain that they  
wouldn't work on Oliver now anyway. Face pressed tightly to his body, she couldn't feel a  
pulse anymore.  
  
A sound came from down the hallway. Lass raised her head, fear surging adrenaline through her  
blood. Pistol in hand, she prepared herself to fight. Slowly, the odd noise drew nearer. It  
sounded like wheels. "What is that?" She wondered.  
  
Moments later, a dark haired woman sitting on a wheeled computer chair turned the corner.  
When she saw Lass and Oliver, she gestured over her shoulder at a small brown backpack  
strapped to the chair. "Medical supplies. Help yourselves." As Lass did exactly that, praying  
silently for a miracle, her savior smiled and used telekinesis to form a powerful shield around  
them. "I'm Cynthia Bochner. And if the dead guy back down the hall is Grant Van Negus, I'd  
say things are looking up for the rebels. For once."  
  
Lass didn't say a word. She was too busy injecting Oliver with Blue No.2 and praying. And as  
another explosion made the entire Citadel shake, her trembling fingers felt a pulse. "Adam and  
Emma be praised." Lass whispered reverently.  
  
"I'll second that." Cynthia muttered, wondering just where the two being praised were. "I just  
hope they're okay."  
  
*****  
  
Blindly running, a little panicked from what had just happened, Emma rushed through the door  
before she consciously realized where she was. The White Room was ivory in all directions,  
pure white, so bright and clean that it made her eyes watery. Breathless from her flight, she  
collapsed into a chair at a computer terminal. Everything was as she'd seen in Van Negus's  
memories. At the center of the room, a strange seat sat. Bizarre electronic devices circled  
around where a person's head would be. Countless control panels and computers were set  
around the room, though the walls themselves were unadorned. The effect was contrasting  
restricted starkness and cluttered disorder.  
  
Emma gasped and shook, her body wanting to betray her and be sick. She kept seeing Grant's  
death, it played over and over inside, a movie on an endless loop. "What have I done? I killed  
him." Pulse pounding, she tried to block the image of blood and death from her mind. "Oh,  
Adam. I need you." She turned back toward the doorway, intending to leave this terrible place,  
and froze in surprise as Adam ran by.  
  
"I'm in here!" Emma cried out, rushing to the door just as he turned back. Without a word, he embraced her, his hand cradling the back of her head. She held him tight, cried on his shoulder.  
Tears of relief and of guilt. Softly, she kissed his handsome face, loving him more in that moment  
than ever before. "Adam." Her voice was low and warm and it broke slightly. She clung to him  
more and sighed as he rubbed her back.  
  
"Its okay. I'm here now." The words soothed them both. A tear of joy slide down his cheek to  
be lost in her soft hair. As Adam had run through nearly empty halls, avoiding being seen by  
fleeing GSA soldiers, he hadn't been certain he'd ever see Emma again. Now, holding her in his  
arms, feeling her body pressed against his and her breath against his skin, he couldn't imagine  
living if he had to do it without her.  
  
Slowly, they stepped back from each other. Their eyes met and both started talking at once,  
which made them laugh a little. Emma reached up and touched Adam's face suddenly, making  
them both shiver with emotion. She could feel his love radiating like heat off his body. He could  
see her love written in her gaze, the slight pout of her lips, and the way she tilted her head slightly  
to one side. They leaned into a deep kiss, letting relief at being alive transform into passion. For  
a brief instant, the world seemed to melt away.  
  
Without warning something shook the Citadel tower. Emma broke away from Adam and spun  
about, searching for any sign that something dangerous was about to reach them. "The rebels  
are really pounding this place." She muttered, realizing that it had just been another explosion  
outside, although this one had been much closer than any previous. "Adam, I killed Van  
Negus." Emma blurted the words before she lost her nerve.  
  
"You had no choice." The reply was automatic. Adam knew in his heart that Emma could not  
commit murder. Could she kill to protect her own life or the lives of others? "You had no other  
choice."  
  
Emma looked at him in surprise. "You don't even know what happened. How can you say I  
had no choice?"  
  
"You are not the murderer. He was." Adam took a step closer to her and put a hand on her  
shoulder. "If I know nothing else about you, I know that you could never hurt anyone unless  
they were trying to hurt you or someone else. You are the most loving and gentle soul I have  
ever known. Being with you, Emma, is like being wrapped in joy." He kissed her forehead and  
then moved down to her mouth. "Everyone has the right to protect life. Their own and the lives  
of others. I know that's what you did. You killed Van Negus because you didn't want anyone  
else to die at his hands."  
  
"I love you." She said simply.  
  
"Took the words right out of my mouth." Adam kissed her again. "Now, exactly why are you  
in here? I thought maybe you'd been caught but," he waved a hand to encompass the empty  
room, "obviously that's not the case."  
  
With a deep sigh, Emma explained exactly how she'd come to learn of the White Room and the  
secret chamber behind the wall. When she was finished, Adam immediately went to a nearby  
computer near the center of the room and began searching its files for a clue. Smiling, she  
walked over to the wall and started feeling for a hidden switch.  
  
"I found something."  
  
Emma turned back. "You've got to be kidding me. Already?" She rolled her eyes and looked  
up at the ceiling. "Deliver me from the overachiever." With a comical sniff, she walked over to  
Adam and the central computer terminal. "So, what have you found? A way to open Eckhart's  
secret door?"  
  
"No. Something even better." He grinned and rapidly keyed in a sequence. "Look's like Van  
Negus wasn't the only one being controlled. The Imperial Guard have advanced cybernetics in  
their bodies, that's why they won't stay dead. Nanomachines rebuild damaged cell tissue. Since  
those machines are powered by microwave energy transmitted from orbital satellites, they never  
stop healing their hosts. According to this file, the nanomachines also contain the memories of  
their hosts and control them." Adam shook his head and started pressing buttons again.  
"Eckhart enslaved the dead to make them." With great enthusiasm, he reached out and flicked a  
large metal switch then turned to face Emma.  
  
"You just started a slave revolt, didn't you?"  
  
Adam chuckled and gave Emma another hug. Having nearly lost her, he wasn't about to waste  
their time together. "Let's just say, I'm giving them the chance to make their own decisions  
again."  
  
*****  
  
Outside the Citadel tower, out in the streets of the Capitol, the Imperial Guard were massed and  
ready to wade into the rebels like hungry wolves. Their weapons aimed, their features set, they  
had taken the first step of the advance when Adam threw the switch. It was an amazing sight to  
behold; that first moment of freedom of will that left the Guard blinking in stunned shock, unable  
to even take an additional step. Every face was suddenly brightened by human surprise and, on  
a few, pure joy. This moment would be captured forever in a thousand hearts and minds. This  
was a memory the rebel's great-grandchildren would listen to stories about. This was freedom  
being reborn.  
  
"We're free?" A woman asked when a rebel soldier broke cover and approached. Several of  
the other members of the Guard started in disbelief when she spoke. For years, most of them  
had been unable to say anything that did not have something to do with the Empire. To hear an  
Imperial Guard ask such a simple question about herself, was like waking from a coma.  
  
One by one, every Imperial Guard asked that same question, their volume and hope rising with  
every repetition. "We're free? We're free? We're free?" The words came so quickly they  
began to blend.  
  
The rebel raised a hand and all the Guard were silenced. Every eye was on this man, all the  
hopes of an enslaved race of human phoenixes, the unlucky souls drafted into Eckhart's most  
horrifying military service, were with him. They all listened as he gently smiled and took the  
woman's hands.  
  
"Yes. You're free." He turned toward the Citadel, pointed at the tower, and grinned. "Now,  
let's show the bastards what rebellion is all about!"  
  
Rebels and Imperial Guard cheered in unison. Together, they formed a vast host of highly  
trained soldiers. Together, they chose to march forward and storm the last bastion of Eckhart's  
power. Freedom granted them the right and they embraced it. It was finally time for the people  
to take back the world.  
  
*****  
  
"The battle's shifted." Valerie muttered as she oversaw the Chief of Medicine and Science's  
supply gathering. The sounds of battle outside had grown louder in the last few seconds.  
Explosions were coming nearer and nearer. "Its almost over. Eckhart's lost." The words came  
surprisingly easy. Valerie had never believed that this day was possible, yet she adapted to it  
easily. In the end, she didn't care about the Empire of Supremacy, not really. She wanted  
power, craved it with every fiber of her being. Only one thing mattered to Valerie Curio as the  
world she'd known all of her life came crumbling down.  
  
"I want to live." She whispered. Her pistol tapped the wall near the Chief's head. "And if you  
want that too, I suggest you grab those bags and take me back to Hindsight." Her eyes darted  
about the room. They fell on a strange machine perched alone on a desk. "Wait. What is that?"  
  
The Chief looked up from the bags of medicine and weaponry she'd been forced to gather. A  
nervous twitch contorted her face. "That is nothing, a failed experiment."  
  
"And I'm a pacifist. Tell me before I give you a little taste of what you gave me back in my  
training days."  
  
Fear clouded the woman's face for an instant. "Very well. It is a gene scanner. Its purpose is to  
take samples of DNA and prepare them for grafting. The device is limited but it can add mutant  
gifts to inferiors if used properly. I have not yet tested it on a Neo-mutant." The Chief of  
Medicine and Science let out a loud sigh of great discontent. "I suppose you want it too."  
  
Valerie shook her head in annoyance. Why would she want to make inferior animals into  
Neo-mutants? Then a thought occurred to her. The bargaining potential of such a machine was  
limitless. How many would flock to her service and aid if she could offer them a true place in the  
empire, assuming the empire survived?  
  
'And maybe it can be adapted to augment me as well.' The thought warmed Valerie's dark  
soul. She turned to the Chief. "Pack it and any equipment necessary to run it. Quickly!" The  
command might have sped the exotic woman but likely not. Her mocha skin was sheathed in  
a thin veil of perspiration and her dark hair was slipping out of its constraining bun. Valerie could  
tell that she was falling apart slowly. It didn't surprise her. The Chief had always struck her as  
someone who could serve the pain but not take it. "Now, lets go back to your little science  
project.  
  
Moving through the Citadel halls unseen was surprisingly easy. They were completely empty  
now. GSA, GSS, and even Imperial Guard forces had abandoned their Emperor's seat of  
power. "Amateurs." Valerie grunted as she followed the Chief, unaware that she was speaking  
exactly that same way Eckhart did. "They couldn't keep their heads in this crisis. But I did. I'm  
going to survive this. No matter the cost." She entered the Hindsight room a second behind the  
Chief. Her eyes went to the enormous machine. Seven pylons rose from the center of it, like  
claws from some metallic demon. Thick cables and long rows of generators filled what little  
space Hindsight didn't take up.  
  
"What now, Agent Curio?" The Chief of Medicine and Science asked in a dead voice. She  
turned back to look at her captor. Her mocha skin, dark hair, the way her eyes flashed with  
ruthlessness and emotionless evil, made Valerie want to shoot her.  
  
First things first though. "Tell me what Hindsight is and what it does. Now!"  
  
The Chief smirked, one eyebrow rising. She suddenly started laughing, though the sound was so  
devoid of mirth that it might have been produced by a machine. "Can you not grasp its function  
from its very name? Are you so lost in your delusions of power that you have failed to  
acknowledge the true might of Emperor Mason Eckhart?" She laughed again, brutally.  
  
Valerie fired a shot out into the hallway, silencing her hostage. "Explain your rants woman  
before I loose what little patience I still posses!"  
  
"Of course, my dear Agent Curio." The Chief said, obviously enjoying this moment. "This is  
Hindsight, the second great example of Mason Eckhart's power! Fueled by the preserved  
corpses of Psionic-Moleculars gathered in the time before the Empire, this was my greatest  
achievement, after I built the God Chamber itself!" She turned and raised her hands in reverence  
to the machine her twisted mind had created.  
  
"This is Hindsight! This is a time gate!" As she spoke those words, energy coursed out from the  
center of the experimental mechanism and raced up the pylons. Arching streams of power raged  
in a sphere of pure energy. The room grew bright as Hindsight purred to terrible life, finally  
activating after many years of waiting and preparation.  
  
Valerie pressed her pistol to the Chief's head. "This is my ticket to ultimate power."  
  
*****  
  
Smooth and pure white, the wall offered no hint nor trace of evidence to prove that there was a  
door. "Where is it?" Emma whispered as she whisked her fingers across the surface, seeking  
some minute depression or fractional crack that would reveal the entrance. Outside the White  
Room and the Citadel, thunder rumbled across the city, though no storm seared the sky. A  
half frightened hiss escaped her lips. "Damn it, I know there's a door here somewhere." The  
room shook faintly. A thin rain of plaster dust fell from the ceiling and tickled her nose, moments  
later eliciting a sneeze.  
  
Adam turned from his work at the central computer. "Are you okay?" He asked, waited for  
her amused smile and gentle nod, then turned back to his work. Pounding keys so rapidly that  
it reminded both of them of automatic fire, Adam worked desperately to regain some measure of  
control over the system.  
  
"Any luck?" Emma asked as she turned away from the blank wall. "Because I'm failing  
miserably over here. If there's a secret door, I can't find it. Not a trace." She ran a hand  
through her dark hair and down the curve of her neck. Her fingers came away wet with sweat  
and mud. For the first time in hours, she wondered how she looked. A glance down at her filthy  
clothes told her everything. She looked terrible. "Geez, I must like hell." Emma muttered softly,  
ineffectually brushing at a stain that seemed all too likely to be blood.  
  
The most romantic and warm grin formed on Adam's face as he looked back at her. "You  
couldn't look bad if you tried." A soft chuckle. "And it looks like you did try."  
  
"Oh very funny. There are times you're worse that Brennan and Jesse!" Emma said as she tried  
to look serious. The annoyed facade crumbled quickly to be replaced by a brief smile. Now  
that she was with Adam, she felt like her old self again. "Seriously, are you making any  
progress?"  
  
"None. Deactivating the nanomachines controlling the Guard resulted in a full security lockdown.  
Apparently, even with the system completely open, there are some minor safeguards." Adam  
stood up and shook his head. "It was a miracle I could free the Guard at all. I don't even know  
what programming language this network uses. I've never seen a computer this powerful before.  
It makes Sanctuary's hardware look like a child's toy. A very small child's toy." He put great  
emphasis on the word "small."  
  
"Hey, don't be so hard on your own creations. Eckhart's had thirty years to work on his  
machines. Yet somehow, you still managed to accomplish a miracle and free those people. Now,  
if we could just figure out how to open up this wall, we could take out the son of a—."  
  
An explosion rocked the Citadel, jarring Emma out of her insult. Adam was jolted forward,  
falling against her in what both might have considered a pleasant accident if not for one factor.  
Behind them, the wall suddenly opened. Falling backwards, Emma was the first to enter the  
hidden chamber. Adam followed immediately, grabbing the edge of the entrance with one arm  
and arresting Emma's fall with the other. From the darkness of the room, a large shape moved  
forward. Someone hit Adam hard. Emma spun to confront his attacker but before she could  
attack with a psi-bolt, something metal snapped against the back of her neck. She screamed as  
tiny claws dug into her flesh to anchor the device.  
  
In an instant, every emotion was gone from her mind except her own. Emptiness and abyss,  
Emma felt naked, vulnerable, weak. She gritted her teeth and tried to force her powers to work  
but her reward for trying was intense pain as the subdermal governor bit harder. Her fist shot  
out, only to be blocked by telekinetic force.  
  
"Now, now, little lady. Is that any way to treat an old friend?" The voice was cold, almost  
emotionless. It was also easily familiar to both Adam and Emma.  
  
"Thorne!" Adam snarled, getting to his feet, preparing to attack the new mutant who had been  
the first real enemy for Mutant X. A pistol suddenly appeared from Frank Thorne's black coat  
pocket and froze him in place. The weapon was aimed at Emma's temple, pressing against her  
tender, innocent skin. "Don't." Adam begged, his heart freezing.  
  
"Not to worry. My master wants to talk to both of you first." Thorne nodded toward the  
semidarkness of the God Chamber. The man smirked and squeezed his free hand into a fist. A  
feeling of pressure formed around Adam's throat. "Regardless, I will kill you both if one of you  
so much as breaths at me in a way I find offensive. It's not like master Eckhart is going to be  
grief stricken if you die prematurely. Now move." Thorne reached out and bodily shoved Emma  
through the door, his weapon trained on her at all times. Adam followed at his telekinetic push.  
  
Behind them, the secret door sealed seamlessly, leaving no crack for light to come through.  
Overhead, a few flourescent tubes provided meager luminance. Squinting helped some. Emma  
turned to Adam, her face a sea of emotions. He smiled weakly and glanced back at Thorne,  
who seemed content to stand like a statue behind them, waiting patiently for his master to show  
himself. Emma saw him and silently mouthed the words "guard dog" to Adam, who coughed to  
cover a laugh. They needed to laugh now, because neither was certain they'd ever get the  
chance again.  
  
"Clever men shouldn't respond to such trivial jokes, Adam." A voice from the center of the  
room, shrouded in shadows, said with deadly hate. Everyone turned to watch as he stepped  
calmly from the darkness. His face was sallow and white, his eyes an empty melancholy. White  
hair, shorn short in a style favored by Andy Warhol, hands clad in white gloves, he frowned at  
Adam and Emma like they were insects pinned in a display case. "Of course, I never truly  
credited you with much intelligence."  
  
Mason Eckhart stood there, dressed in a flowing robe of white that seemed soiled by contact  
with his flesh. It resembled a lab coat but had no functional quality that Adam could see. He  
wore a simple white suit underneath and strange heavy boots with metal ends. He raised a hand  
to his lips and softly stroked the tender meat. "Now, given that you are my prisoners, I feel an  
oddly cliched need to explain my fiendish plan. Or perhaps you'd like to tell me what I'm up to,  
Adam? Isn't that what the rebels expected of you? That you'd be able to out think me?"  
Eckhart made a gesture and Frank Thorne came forward, immediately jamming his weapon into  
Emma's back.  
  
"Come, bring them." He commanded and started walking back toward the center of the God  
Chamber, where a single pod was sectioned off from the rest. Adam followed, his legs stiff with  
fear. Beside him, Emma winced every time Thorne pressed his pistol into her. Eckhart took his  
place at a podium covered in controls and gauges. "Well Adam, have you figured out my plan?  
Do you know what this place is?" The questions were asked in the same way that a teacher  
would pose them to a particularly intellectually challenged student. When Adam made no  
attempt to speak, Eckhart nodded to Thorne.  
  
"Mason Eckhart built this place," Thorne said as he took a step back from Emma, "to channel  
the collective mutant powers of the entire first generation of new mutants. Virtually all of them are  
here, their genetic material being analyzed and prepared for the final operation." He calmly took  
a deep breath and ran his free hand through the thin layer of hair on his head. "My master  
gathered all of your precious children Adam, every last one he could find, and put them into your  
beautiful pods."  
  
A cold chill ran the length of Adam's spine. He wanted to leap at Eckhart, tear into him with his  
last breath, just kill him before Thorne could stop him. Only his fear for Emma kept the urge in  
check. "Why? What's the purpose?"  
  
"You do disappoint me." Eckhart chuckled as he pressed a hand against the podium's controls.  
"Let me make things clear for you. I'll try to use small words so Ms. DeLauro can follow along."  
He sneered at Emma, almost laughed. The hatred in his eyes was intense and insane. "This  
chamber will channel the genetic material of over half a million new mutants into this single pod."  
His fingers tapped quietly on the podium. "The mutant gifts will then be grafted onto a host, the  
only man worthy of the power that will be bestowed in that final instant. Mason Eckhart will arise  
as a god!"  
  
The declaration was madness and grammatically strange. Why Eckhart suddenly felt it  
necessary to talk in the third person was a mystery. Adam shook his head in stunned surprise.  
In the space of a few seconds, he made calculations regarding the ludicrous scheme. "You can't   
be serious. It would take decades to a prepare someone for a transfer of power like that. And  
even if you hop into that pod right now, the rebels will be here long before you've taken a single  
gift." Adam's words were forceful and filled with simple truth.  
  
Thorne laughed first and then Eckhart joined him. They laughed so hard that for a moment,  
neither seemed to notice that Adam and Emma were there. Before an escape could be  
attempted, a computer voice filled the God Chamber. "Final countdown initiated." Adam felt  
confusion grip his soul as Emma once more had cold gunmetal shoved against her spine.  
  
"What the hell is so funny?" She asked suddenly, fed up with madness and mayhem. Emma  
wanted a straight answer from this world before she lost her mind. Her question earned her  
another hard poke in the back and a sickening chuckle from Thorne, who was even more  
sadistic than she remembered.  
  
Eckhart, on the other hand, merely shook his head and calmly turned away from them to check  
the central pod's readout. It was in this moment that Adam and Emma realized that someone  
was already in there, probably had been for the decades needed. Though veiled in a thick layer  
of dust, the pod's occupant was obviously a man. A man with white hair. They were struck  
silent by total confusion and fear. Adam felt the bottom of his stomach fall, as if he were  
drowning in an abyss. In an almost conversational tone, Eckhart asked "I wonder, could stealth  
mutants, gifted with the power to turn invisible, be able to evolve further? Might such talents  
develop into the power to cloak themselves in false light, a natural hologram?"  
  
"It's possible." Adam whispered, confused again but realizing that Eckhart was showing his  
hand fully. The time for secrets was over.  
  
The Emperor of Supremacy turned around, his face and body suddenly glowing. "Oh, its far  
more than possible Adam Kane." Scintillating light coursed across Eckhart's skin as it changed  
from pale to pink. His hair faded from short white to long darkness. Before his mask fell away  
completely, he turned around so that Adam and Emma saw only his back.  
  
Or rather, her back. For where Mason Eckhart had been, there was now a woman with dark  
hair. A woman who they both knew.  
  
"Danielle?" Emma asked in a shocked whisper. Her mind had locked on the first stealth mutant  
the team had encountered, Adam's lover and the mother of a child that he'd wished was his.  
Breath caught in her lungs, she turned to him, saw horror in his eyes. Deep regret filled Emma  
that Adam would have to suffer this pain atop all the others life had forced on him.  
  
The woman who had been Eckhart turned around in a sharp motion that made her white robe  
twirl about her. Long locks of dark hair covered her face for a moment before she brushed  
them away. "My name is Catherine." She said with a grin. "Catherine Eckhart."  
  
Adam felt his heart stop. He didn't want to believe what he was seeing but he couldn't lie to  
himself. 'Now I know,' he thought with sick dread, 'why her eyes were so blue.'  
  
END OF PART SIX 


	7. The Path Of Light Ascending

Part Seven:  
The Path of Light Ascending  
The moment trapped Adam in a spiral of pure and unrelenting madness. Catherine Hartman,  
now claiming the surname Eckhart, stood before him. She had a look of regal authority about  
her from the years she'd pretended to be Mason Eckhart, Emperor of Supremacy. No trace  
of the innocent girl Adam had known could be seen, nor could he detect a hint of her mother's  
warm smile. In this instant, the whole horrible truth fell into place.  
  
The real Mason Eckhart was lying in the central pod. He'd been there for more than a decade,  
maybe even two, awaiting the transfer of mutant powers that would transform his body into an  
unstoppable nightmare. Every unspeakable crime committed during the long years of the Empire  
had been ordered by Catherine, his and Danielle Hartman's daughter.  
  
"Mason needed someone to impersonate him while the God Chamber transformed his DNA."  
Adam whispered under his breath. With mounting horror, he looked behind to the brutal eyes of  
Frank Thorne, then once more into the frozen, stern countenance of Catherine. "Thorne wanted  
back into his good graces, heard about your powers growing, and hunted you down for his  
master. Then Eckhart used the White Room on you. He brainwashed and turned you into a  
slave. He made you into an inhuman tyrant!"  
  
Catherine started chuckling. "Oh Adam. Sometimes your foolish sentimentality effects your  
ability to reason." Light flickered over her softly scintillating skin, displaying the colors of a  
brilliant rainbow. She stepped toward them, abandoning the controls for the God Chamber.  
Quiet and cruel, now so close Adam could smell her hair, Catherine whispered into his ear. "My  
father showed me the path to true power. I am not his slave, I am his most loyal follower. As is  
Mr. Thorne."  
  
Reaching out, she laid a hand on Thorne's strong arm. "The Emperor's ascension will be  
complete in less than ten minutes. Prepare yourself for the glory and the reward for your years of  
service." Her eyes took on a decidedly predatory gleam. "Then again, perhaps you'd like to  
partake of certain rewards now, eh Mr. Thorne?"  
  
Frank leaned closer to Emma and sniffed her hair. He pressed his gun further into her back as  
he slipped his other hand around to caress down her belly, making her cringe in disgust. "I think  
I'd like that." He said with a sadistic laugh.  
  
"Touch her again and I'll kill you." Adam's voice held such venom and malice in it that Thorne  
withdrew his hand from Emma's body and even took a step back from her. Focusing on  
Catherine, he nodded toward the pod behind her, the centerpiece of the God Chamber. "Do  
you really think Eckhart is just going to share his power with you? He's not exactly a generous  
man."   
  
"You two haven't exactly done a bang-up job either." Emma muttered. As the last word left  
her mouth, Catherine backhanded her hard enough to drive her into the cold metal gun barrel of  
Thorne's pistol. She hurt but tried not show it.  
  
Catherine turned away from them. "Your insolence is unappreciated Emma." She rubbed at her  
temples in a way that was chillingly familiar to Adam. Eckhart used to do it when he was very  
tired and fed up. Something told him that the situation was about to explode. The sounds of  
gunfire and mutant gifts being used filtered through the walls, growing closer with each passing  
second. As Catherine turned back, a flicker of fear was visible in her stance and the set of her  
jaw. It was fleeting, but it gave Adam a measure of hope.  
  
"Did you hear that Catherine. Eckhart's empire is collapsing. Do you really think he's going to  
reward you and Thorne for letting the rebels do this? Are you that deluded?"  
  
"Shut up!" Catherine landed a staggering blow that sent Adam reeling. As he lost his balance  
and collapsed backwards, he spun sideways. His foot shot out and struck Thorne's Achilles  
tendon and the nearby nerve bundle with devastating effect.  
  
As pain raced up Thorne's leg, numbing it slightly, he gritted his teeth and started to pull the  
trigger on his handgun. Only, as he pulled, Emma spun to the left while driving her body back  
against him. The barrel twisted between them and pointed harmlessly to the right. Even as it  
thundered, Emma was slamming her head back against her captor's face. Thorne grunted as his  
nose was broken and bloodied. He winced in pain as Emma drove a heel into the instep of his  
weakened leg. The speed and effectiveness of the counterattack brought Thorne down to one  
knee. He shoved his immediate enemy, Emma, away as he fell with his telekinetic powers.  
  
On the floor, Adam spun around and delivered a powerful kick to Thorne's head. The blow  
made a sickly enjoyable wet thud. 'That was for touching Emma.' He thought as the big man hit  
the floor. Showing more flexibility and agility than most men half his age, something Emma had  
very personal experience with, Adam sprung to his feet. He was tempted to deliver a parting  
blow to Thorne but he refrained in favor to shutting off the God Chamber. He raced to the panel  
and started making calculations while pressing buttons.  
  
Meanwhile the telekinetic jolt had sent Emma flying into Catherine. Enraged by the contact, she  
forgot Adam and attacked. Proving the power of torture training and heavy brainwashing,  
Catherine was moving fast and striking with incredible force. Every blow that landed made her  
opponent wince and fall back a step. Emma was nearing the wall, barely dodging spinning  
roundhouse kicks and powerful punches. She went to the floor and tried to sweep Catherine's  
feet out from under her but she leapt high and nearly took Emma's head off with a knife blade  
that popped out of her right boot.  
  
Emma pulled her legs against her chest and kicked out, catching Catherine in the back as she  
spun from the force of her own kick. She was sent flying. Most people would have been unable  
to recover but even as Emma got to her feet, Catherine was landing catlike beside a pod.  
  
"Nice try little girl. Sugar daddy Adam's taught you some damn good lessons." Catherine  
reached down and drew the knife from her right boot and a second from her left. She rose  
brandishing the weapons, twirling them in her hands. "Time to see who's the better teacher;  
your lover or my father." Blades at the ready, a hunter's leer on her face, Catherine pulled back  
and then sprung forward.  
  
She moved faster than Emma thought possible. Somehow, by a miracle of God, she dodged the  
knives with no space to spare. Her skin tingled as the tips of the blades actually slid across,  
grazing so lightly that it seemed impossible not to be cut. Against Catherine, any miracle was  
welcome. Emma was driven back rapidly. She knew the wall was approaching but she couldn't  
get away from those whirling blades. Her opponent was like a machine, slicing and dicing and  
moving inexorably forward, an unstoppable juggernaut.  
  
Adam spared a glance over his shoulder as he desperately sought a way to stop the God  
Chamber's final transference of new mutant power to the real Mason Eckhart. When he saw  
Emma falling back under the assault of the whirling dervish that was once Catherine Hartman,  
saw her about to hit the wall, he reacted without a second thought. Adam went for Thorne's  
pistol, which was lying in the man's limp open hand.  
  
In the second that it took for Adam to make his move, Emma ran out of room and found herself  
facing Catherine's vengeance. The blades were a blur as they moved, one arching downward  
toward her eyes and the other coming straight for her belly. Everything seemed to slow down in  
that instant before those sharp blades could bite. Emma moved, twisting and throwing a hard  
punch into Catherine's middle. Even as she did this, she felt one knife sliding easily into her side,  
just barely missing the liver while the second struck deep into her shoulder, getting caught in the  
bone. A scream left her throat but it was overwhelmed by the boom of a gun.  
  
Catherine gasped as a bullet slammed into her back, driving her forward against Emma. She lost  
her grip on the knife in Emma's shoulder but managed to force the one in her side deeper. "If I  
must die, I'm taking you to hell with me!" Her voice was strong with hatred. With a brutal jerk,  
she yanked the knife out of Emma's tender flesh, bringing a small fountain of crimson with it.  
Gleaming in the light from the overhead, Catherine wrapped her other hand around the handle  
and almost stabbed her enemy in the heart.  
  
Another gunshot rang out. This one tore through Catherine's right hand, taking several of her  
fingers off. It also sent the knife flying, sparks falling away. A scream tore loose from her mouth  
as pain filled Catherine's body. Then she was falling backwards from the powerful kick Emma  
had managed.  
  
"Adam, forget about me! Stop Eckhart!" She cried out, even as blood started to dribble out of  
the corner of her mouth. The pain was terrible and a cold numbness was starting to fill Emma's  
body. Moving cost her in pain and blood. She was losing life fast, the red splattering on the  
metal floor. "Finish it or this was for nothing!"  
  
At that command, Adam started moving. He went straight for the control panel. Rapidly, he hit  
buttons and turned dials, read the numbers on digital monitors, made calculations in his head that  
would have given Einstein migraines, and tried to save the world from a monster, all while  
praying rapidly for Emma to survive.  
  
"Thorne!" Catherine roared as she found her lost knife. She heaved the blade into the air and it  
was caught by telekinetic force.  
  
Sitting up, his hands raised as if in supplication, Frank Thorne gripped the weapon with his mind.  
He turned to Adam and lowered his hands with a single motion. Victory would come now, as  
the blade shot through the air, headed straight for the back of Adam's neck. A kill stroke.  
  
"Adam, look out!" Emma screamed with the last strength in her body. She collapsed to the  
floor, slick with her sticky blood, even as Adam juked sideways.  
  
The knife struck the God Chamber's control panel with enough force to bury itself to the hilt.  
Electricity arced off it like lightening in a storm. An alarm came on and a prerecorded message  
began playing. "Stasis pod deactivation sequence is now commencing."  
  
"No!" The scream came from the mouth's of both Eckhart's most trusted servants. Catherine's  
was tinged with despair and loss, like that of a child losing a beloved father. The brainwashing  
had left her dependent on Eckhart's presence. Thorne's held nothing but fear. He remembered  
the days before he'd gotten back into Eckhart's good graces, the days of running and hiding like  
an animal. He didn't want to live like that again. Without a second thought, Thorne went  
running into the darkness of the room, heading for another exit at the back.  
  
While the stasis pods started hissing as the mutants within were awakened, Adam was kneeling  
at Emma's side, pistol and mission forgotten, turning his love over gently. Her eyes were half  
open. A thin trickle of blood came from between her lips. "Hold me." She whispered, the  
words barely making it through the pain.  
  
"Stay with me Emma. Help's on the way. The rebels are coming." Adam held her against his  
chest, felt warmth seeping out of her body. "Please, don't die Emma. You've got to stay with  
me." Tears were running from his eyes as he felt her body losing strength. It was as if death  
were creeping in with every breath Emma took. The reaper pounded a nail into her coffin with  
every beat of her heart. The pulse at her neck was thready and slipping away. Adam looked  
deep into Emma's eyes, saw her light dimming and found himself willing her to live with every  
fiber of his being. "I love you Emma DeLauro. I won't let you die. I won't."  
  
"You don't have a choice." Catherine snarled from behind him. Her uninjured hand gripped  
Thorne's pistol. She felt the pain in her back from Adam's first shot but it was tolerable. She  
was a creature of pain and power, made strong by years of training and ruthless torment. She  
had her mission to sustain her, the need to finish the task her father had left her. Victory could  
still be her's, all she had to do was kill Adam and reset the emergency backup for the God  
Chamber. "Did you really think you could win? Arrogant bastard. You couldn't save Mutant X,  
you couldn't save the future, so what makes you think you can save her?"  
  
Adam wasn't listening to Catherine. Emma's lips were moving. He leaned down close,  
listening. "I love you too." Her hand found Adam's somehow and she gave him a faint squeeze.  
Then she went limp and a last whisper of breath passed between her lips. Adam felt his heart  
stop.  
  
"Emma?" He started to shake her, gently, though the rational part of his mind knew, knew the  
terrible fact, the horrific truth. "Emma, open your eyes." The words were pointless. They were  
nothing more than delusions meant to protect him from what he already knew. In that moment,  
Adam realized that he was crying, sobbing silently. A wordless moan of pure anguish left his  
throat.  
  
Emma was dead.  
  
Behind his head, the cold metallic snick-click of a hammer arcing back; the sound of a pistol  
being cocked. "Don't worry," Catherine's voice invaded Adam's delirious grief with its  
strangely sympathetic scorn. "In a second, you'll be holding her again." Smiling she took a few  
steps back to avoid the splatter of brains and blood that would come. "Goodbye Adam."  
Catherine whispered in a way that seemed almost sentimental.  
  
Her finger tightened on the trigger.  
  
*****  
  
Valerie Curio didn't need to be a telempath or a precog to know that the rebels had finally won.  
Explosions and gunfire were moving off into the distance, but not to the west from wince the  
rebels had come. The battle was moving east and inward. "Eckhart's lost. Finish getting this  
thing ready, I won't let the rebels capture me. I won't let them beat me." There was a cold  
certainty in Valerie's voice, a brutal undertone which spoke of undying rage.  
  
Standing at the controls, the Chief of Medicine and Science, her creamy dark mocha skin wet  
with perspiration, her lustrous black hair hanging loose down to her shoulders, made no move  
to activate the Hindsight device. "When do you want to go?" She asked in a calm and  
methodical voice.  
  
"What are you talking about? I want to go right now!"  
  
A deep sigh of annoyance. For a woman held hostage by a stone cold killer of her own  
creation, the Chief was remarkably relaxed. "This is a time machine. To what date do you want  
to be sent? Perhaps the era of the pyramids? You'd make a wonderful goddess for them to  
worship." There was no sarcasm in her voice, the words were merely an empty statement.  
  
For a moment, the concept actually appealed to Valerie. Then she remembered who and what  
she was. Perhaps even why she was. "No. Send me back thirty years. To the day Adam Kane  
and Emma DeLauro disappeared. I'll go back and take out the rest of Mutant X." She closed  
her eyes and a smile formed on her lips. "Then I'll find the Emperor in his past form. I'll become  
his advisor. My power will be second only to his. And one day, he will leave me to rule  
everything."  
  
If this scenario impressed the Chief of Medicine and Science in any way, she didn't show it.  
"Very well." The woman turned to a control panel and started running numbers and computing  
equations. Hindsight suddenly roared to full life, not the half-life it had been living mere seconds  
ago. A sphere of pure temporal power formed between the seven pylons, held in the center by  
forces so strong that they could rend the fabric of reality. Energy coursed across metal,  
restrained by the might of technology and the Psionic-Molecular new mutants that formed  
the machine's core. Static electricity filled the room and made the very air pulsate with new,  
unnatural vibrancy. "Very well."  
  
A fleeting sense of curiosity caused Valerie to ask a very simple question. "Why didn't the  
Emperor use this thing to stop Adam and his Mutant X team before? Why not use it to wipe out  
the rebels?"  
  
"It is still in the experimental stage. My tests have yet to provide for complete safety. The  
Emperor was unwilling to risk creating catastrophic chronometric waves in the waters of  
history." The Chief turned to Valerie for a brief moment, gave her a strangely sympathetic look,  
then went back to her work. "Time is a very powerful and dangerous creature. If she is not  
properly broken in, as you GS agents are, she can be lethal to her ostensible masters."  
  
She finished making calculations and turned back. "It's done. Hindsight's protective fields are  
active." Suddenly, a force gripped the woman by the throat and held her up high.  
  
"What are you doing?" The Chief gasped out in sudden terror.  
  
Her answer came in the form of a casual gesture. As if waving away an unwanted bit of food at  
a restaurant, Valerie fluttered her hand and sent the Chief flying into the sphere of temporal  
power. "I'm testing to see if you set the machine properly or if you planned to kill me."  
  
As the Chief struck the sphere, her flesh seared off in a blinding flash of light. Silent screams  
exploded out of her gaping mouth. Lightening surged across the sphere and raced over the  
dying woman's form. Valerie watched the show with wide eyes that drank in her pain and  
suffering. Suddenly, a wave of force seemed to come out of the sphere and disintegrate the  
Chief.  
  
As the air cleared, the Hindsight device continued to purr along, its unfathomable power  
controlled by the energy pylons and the unwavering rule of physical law. Still standing, eyes on  
the spot where the Chief of Medicine and Science had been, Valerie Curio hefted a bag of  
supplies and sighed.  
  
"I suppose that answers my question."  
  
*****  
  
"Where are Adam and Emma? Have you seen or heard from them?" Angel Longstreet asked  
desperately, ignoring her extensive injuries, relying on Bo's steadying arm around her waist to  
keep her standing. She'd been through one hell of a fight before the Imperial Guard suddenly  
switched sides. The moment it had happened, she'd known that Mutant X was responsible. It  
didn't matter if the team now consisted of only Adam and Emma, they were still the best at  
protecting and liberating people. No matter how badly she hurt or how much blood seeped  
from beneath hastily applied bandages, Angel intended to find them. "Anything at all?"  
  
The rebel she'd been speaking to shook her head. "No General. We've been out of contact  
with our forces inside the Citadel too. Something's going on. Something's wrong."  
  
Bo gritted his teeth. He might have snarled if not for his own injuries making the simple act of  
breathing hurt. "Probably just the tower's basic security system. Eckhart wouldn't want even  
the slightest chance for someone to eavesdrop." It sounded right. The obvious answer, easy  
to accept and just as easy to embrace. "Still, I want everyone on alert. And find Adam and  
Emma! They must be protected at all costs."  
  
"Yes. At all costs." The soft groan of Angel's voice from beside her loving husband. "We can't  
leave them behind. Without them, we couldn't have done all this." She waved the rebel off and  
allowed herself to be guided toward a light armored command vehicle, a Kore Hovertram 2. As  
Bo carefully lowered her into the seat, Angel gave him a semi-reproachful look. "I wish you  
could have found something else. I hate having to use Imperial technology."  
  
"It was the only thing around here that's still mobile. Between our forces and Eckhart's, we've  
reduced half of Capitol to ashes and rubble. I can't believe how quickly the civilians came into  
the fight." Bo hauled himself into the driver's seat, wincing as his large frame squeezed into an  
area intended for a much smaller man. "This isn't like the hit-and-run raids we've been doing or  
like any warfare you and I've ever seen. The people are acting as if they've waited their entire  
lives to fight for us or just to go insane and commit atrocities in Eckhart's name."  
  
"Bo, honey, you're missing one key point." Angel's words were partially obscured by the  
Hovertram's engines swirling to life. A cushion of air formed under the vehicle and lifted it up  
gently, as if it were a baby being cradled by a loving mother. "With Adam and Emma back in  
town, the people know Eckhart's time is almost over. Those that want him gone feel certain of  
their victory. Those that would rather be merciless monsters under his rule, are doing what  
comes naturally to psychotic killers." Gusts of wind blew across the open compartment, making  
Angel's blonde locks billow in the waning sunlight of the dying day. "By tomorrow, it will all be  
over."  
  
Just as Bo started to speak, the radio crackled with static and a very fuzzy voice came out.  
"This is Cynthia Bochner for General Longstreet. Repeat, Bochner for Longstreet. Blonde-  
Bombshell or Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, whichever gets to the radio first!"  
  
For a moment, the Longstreets merely starred at each other in bewilderment. Then Bo snatched  
the receiver from its cradle, brought it to his ear, and somehow managed not to lose control of  
the Hovertram. "This is General Bo Longstreet. If this is someone tying up the airwaves for  
fun. . . ." Bo let out a very Feral snarl, which immediately made him wince.  
  
Static. "Whoa! Down tiger!" A gentle chuckle. "Don't worry, I have important information for  
you. You're looking for Adam and Emma, right? Well, my friend, whom you can't see since  
we're on the radio and not a satellite comlink, is a remote locator, classified as a Psionic."  
Another long stream of static followed before being replaced by a woman breathing hard while a  
machine gun chattered in the background. "Sorry, almost got taken off the air by a very  
determined network executive. Listen, our favorite couple is in a room, a hidden room, located  
behind a wall in the White Room. If you don't know where the White Room is, here are the  
directions free of charge!"  
  
As Cynthia spoke, Angel and Bo quickly relayed her words to troops outside the Citadel. It  
would take less than a minute to reach the White Room, if Cynthia's information was accurate,  
but it might take quite longer for a team to break through the hidden door if it were armored. A  
full half hour could pass before they reached Adam and Emma. Neither General expected that  
to be a problem.  
  
How could Adam Kane and Emma DeLauro, the legendary and even mythical figures of  
Mutant X, be in any real trouble?  
  
*****  
  
Adam heard the click of Thorne's pistol. He could feel the weapon rising, its barrel pointing at  
his skull. "Don't worry," Catherine said from behind him. "In a second, you'll be holding her  
again." Her intention to kill was clear. Adam knew that she was going to kill him in just a few  
seconds, yet he made no effort to save himself. What was the point? "Goodbye Adam."  
Catherine whispered in a way that seemed almost sentimental, a way that made him cry harder,  
for Emma and for the girl he'd known thirty years in the past.  
  
Savoring every millisecond of the moment, Catherine began to squeeze the trigger, tightening her  
finger with a gentle pressure. In her hands, the pistol was like a delicate piece of art. The smile  
on her face grew. She knew that Adam would not stop her. Once he was dead, she could reset  
the God Chamber's systems, reseal all the pods, and then the world would tremble as her father  
rose from his many years of sleep with the power to rule for eternity. All she had to do was kill  
Adam Kane.  
  
'Victory, father, victory.' Catherine thought happily. 'I've won.'  
  
Without warning, an arc of electricity passed through the air and struck Catherine, throwing her  
backwards, pistol still clinched tightly in hand. Another jolt slammed into a control panel,  
causing the secret door to open. In a matter of moments, rebels practically flooded into the  
God Chamber, weapons at the ready, coming to save Adam and Emma. They stopped in  
stunned shock as their eyes fell upon the horrors of the room. The many thousands of pods,  
some opening, and the scene of Adam cradling Emma's body in his arms.  
  
Someone reached out and gripped Adam's shoulder. "Lay Emma down. I can't try to get her  
heart going again while your holding her." The voice was familiar and even as he turned toward  
it, Adam knew who it was.  
  
"Brennan?"  
  
"In the flesh. Now get out of the way!" Brennan Mulwray, features slightly worn by thirty years  
but still ruggedly handsome, gently shoved Adam away from Emma. He ran his hands in circles  
and then hit Emma with a blast. She jerked like a puppet being manipulated by a drunken  
puppeteer. Brennan could tell the jolt hadn't restarted her heart. He readied another, carefully  
increasing the power.  
  
Comforting hands found themselves on Adam's shoulders. He looked up and through a veil of  
tears saw Shalimar Fox and Jesse Kilmartin standing over him, guarding him, lending some  
measure of their collective strength. Their faces were easily recognizable, they'd aged  
wonderfully. It was almost as if the battle with Portia Klein and Darius Monaco had never  
occurred, just a nightmare at most, and any second now Emma would sit up and smile, wink,  
and say "gotcha."  
  
"Everything's going to be alright Adam." Jesse said with a dry smile. His eyes looked hard and  
there was just the barest hint of sadness there. He sounded worn and used up. Time spent  
trapped in a pod had obviously hurt him.  
  
"Emma's going to pull through. Brennan will save her." Shalimar whispered as she watched.  
Her eyes were glued to the scene and they seemed to fill with tears now. Sorrow was evident in  
the way she spoke. There was a slight tremble in her voice. "You've come too far, survived too  
damn much to die here. Nothing can kill the two of you Adam, nothing."  
  
"Its fate Adam. You're stuck with her and with us." Jesse said as he squeezed his leader's  
shoulder and watched with worry as Brennan kept trying to get Emma's heart pumping. He  
glanced back over his shoulder and called out into the semidarkness. "Charlotte, we need a  
medic! Now! Emma's going to need medicine as soon as Brennan's done!"  
  
Adam turned around. Charlotte Cook was there too, standing over a man's body. To his  
surprise, he saw that she'd knocked Thorne back into unconsciousness. As she turned toward  
the rebels, who were just starting to recover from the shock of the chamber, he saw how well  
she'd aged. Her dark hair was still long and black, her eyes seemed sharp with intellect. There  
was the faintest trace of a scar on her cheek, but it was faded. Time had been mostly good to  
her and to the rest of Mutant X. In some strange way, Adam felt like that meant something, that  
somehow it was a sign that Emma wasn't going to die. It just seemed wrong for her to die when  
everyone else had aged so damned well.  
  
"I've got her!" Brennan yelled as Emma gasped, her body clutching once more at the delicate  
thread of life.  
  
"Emma!" Adam shot forward and took her hand in his. All fear was driven from his mind as he  
focused on her beautiful face, the fatalistic depression that had been trying to infect him died  
instantly. Voice cracking with love and desperation, he spoke softly to her as she looked up at  
him. "Stay here. Don't go again, please." He begged, tears in his eyes.  
  
As if she drew strength from the contact, Emma seemed to focus all of her attention on Adam.  
She took her breath in shallow gasps and held his hand with all her strength. An infant could  
have gripped tighter, but it encouraged Adam's reckless hope. Still, in the space of a breath, her  
eyes were closed again and her heart was slowing. She's lost blood but not enough to cause  
such a complete collapse of health.  
  
"Poison." Adam suddenly said, turning back to stare at the team. "Catherine's knives, I think  
they were poisoned!" The team did not respond, merely regarded him with sad eyes. He  
realized with a start that, though each of them had been trapped in a pod, they had been  
exposed to this nightmare for years longer than he had. Nothing about it surprised them. They  
took the possibility of poison as a given.  
  
Suddenly, Charlotte was knelling down across from Adam, opening a silver case as she checked  
Emma's pulse. "No medics." She said simply, drawing out several syringes filled with Blue  
No.2 and others that contained futuristic drugs who's purposes Adam could not begin to guess.  
"Do you trust me?" Her eyes met Adam's, her voice shaking with uncertainty.  
  
"With my life and her's." He said without hesitation. Though the Charlotte he'd known thirty  
years ago had turned him dark, she'd also been depressed, angry, and confused. When it came  
down to the last choice, she made the right one and saved him. If it hadn't been for her, Emma  
wouldn't have realized how important she was to him. It had been in that moment, when he'd  
wrapped his hands around Shalimar's throat, that Emma saw how her voice alone could find his  
good side, even in the darkness. "Save her life Charlotte."  
  
She nodded and went to work, using a medical scanner to get her vitals before injecting Emma  
with multiple medications. Fingers deft and careful, she pulled surgical needles and thread from  
the silver case. Charlotte hiked up Emma's blouse, getting at the stab wound in her side.  
"Shoulder's not serious enough to be a problem. This is." Carefully, she examined the wound.  
A bottle of black ooze appeared from the case. Charlotte poured a generous amount into  
Emma's open side, causing her entire body to wince in obvious pain.  
  
"Anti-toxin." She explained at the sight of Adam's half frightened, half angry glare. "I know  
what kind of poison Catherine used. It's a localized nerve agent. Paralyzes organ function.  
That's why we can ignore her shoulder wound for now. The toxin has to be neutralized here."  
As the words came, Charlotte was sewing Emma's side shut. "All we can do now is wait and  
pray."  
  
Her voice sounded very old in that moment. Adam nodded to her, hating that she couldn't do  
more while also feeling grateful for what she had done. Charlotte reached out and checked  
Emma's pulse again, thought there might be a slight improvement. She looked up and turned  
when Jesse gently touched her arm. He'd come to stand behind her at some point during her  
brief operation on Emma. Now, leaning down closer, Jesse whispered, "don't worry, she'll  
pull through."  
  
Everyone's attention was on Emma. Her eyes were closed, her chest barely moved. She  
looked pale and lost. Kneeling at her side, Adam didn't look much better.  
  
"Emma? Can you hear me?" He asked in a desperate voice. "Please, say something." The  
need in his voice was so filled with love and hope that everyone who heard him felt tears form at  
the corners of their eyes. Tears and surprise.  
  
Brennan, Jesse, Shalimar, and even Charlotte, held their breath and hoped with all their souls  
that Emma would open her eyes. They wanted her to live. Even Charlotte who didn't even  
really know her, except from that brief encounter of many years ago. She remembered how  
easily Emma had forgiven her for knocking her out with a vase and for turning Adam evil. That  
had to count for something.  
  
In the time it takes for an angel to blink, in a moment that made the world seem Eden again, in  
that pivotal instant where hope flies amongst the stars, Emma opened her eyes. She turned  
toward Adam, saw his tears and his worry. Her hand gripped his firmly. A glance at her  
teammates, at their urgent hope. She smiled.  
  
"I am so over this future."  
  
*****  
  
The Hindsight Chamber lay open to the public. Rebels were wandering around inside, enjoying  
every moment of their freedom within this once dread place. "What do you suppose this thing  
is?" One asked in an awed voice, her eyes focused on the orb of pure energy at the center of  
the pylons.  
  
"Don't know. Maybe a generator." Another rebel replied, this one examining Hindsight's  
controls. "Whatever it is, I can't make heads or tails out of these readouts. I've never seen this  
kinds of Physics calculations. They're way beyond me." The man shook his head and wrinkled  
his nose. "Anyone else smell that?"  
  
"Burned meat. Someone was killed here." Came an answer from another rebel, a man with  
glowing Feral eyes. "In the last few minutes too. The killer might be hiding in here. We should  
check the walls for hidden spaces."  
  
"Right." The woman who had first spoken grumbled, abandoning her study of the machine to  
start tapping on the metal plating of the walls. The other rebels joined her.  
  
Hidden behind one of those very panels of heavy steel, Valerie Curio felt trapped and small,  
caged like an animal. Sweat was pouring down her face from the strain of using her powers for  
the last few minutes to keep her cubbyhole hidden. She'd gotten lucky. Moments after the  
Chief of Medicine and Science's death, the rebels had started down the hall, apparently drawn  
by Hindsight's thirty consumption of power. Valerie had momentarily approached panic,  
because she had no idea how to control Hindsight and no where to run if the rebels found her.  
Then an idea had occurred to her. With telekinetic might born of determination, she'd torn a  
panel loose from the wall, squeezed into the cramped quarters with her consolidated supplies,  
and used her powers to reseal the panel. She'd been holding the metal in place with a constant  
pressure ever since.  
  
Her mind seethed with plans. She would wait for the right moment to spring forth and leap into  
the sphere. Surely, Adam Kane could fix whatever glitch the Chief had created in Hindsight.  
When he did, she planed to follow him and his lover Emma back into the past, back to a time  
when the world was still ignorant of new mutants.  
  
Valerie knew there were risks. Never before in her life had she considered such a potentially  
fatal course of action. Only now, when the Empire lay a dying husk in the dirt, could her keen  
mind consider every course and every possibility. There were no more rules to follow, no one to  
obey but herself. It was liberating, but also somehow terrifying. She blocked out fear and held  
hatred and mercilessness close. Emotions like these would give her strength.  
  
"I can wait." She whispered into the darkness. "I can wait for Adam to make his move."   
  
*****  
  
Sitting alone, watching as rebels and the former Imperial Guard raised a great cheer of victory,  
Oliver White considered his luck in the rebellion. He'd lost many friends, everyone had, but  
he'd come through virtually every battle and every massacre untouched. Van Negus's attack  
had been the first to almost kill him. It seemed strange that he was still alive when so many were  
lost. His mind wandered to the young boy Terry Pritchett, who had died in the last of Eckhart's  
bombing runs. Other ghosts rose from memory to haunt him, all seeming to ask "why?"  
  
"I should be dead too." He muttered as his friends cheered the victory.  
  
From behind, a hand found his shoulder. He turned back. Lass Thompson, her long blonde hair  
framing her face, stood there as she always had. "You're wrong. You were meant to come  
through this. We all were." She sat down beside Oliver, carelessly smiling. It had been a long  
time since either had genuinely expressed happiness without guarding the emotion and tempering  
it with fear. "This whole nightmare world was meant to be, if only to show Adam and Emma  
what might be."  
  
Oliver snorted and shook his head. "Always the believer. Always ready with an answer to show  
how God's will somehow rules the day." He sighed and turned away from her, his eyes focusing  
on the cheering rebel forces. "Look at them Lass. This victory belongs to them. They've fought  
all their lives and watched family, friends, and lovers perish for the cause. Would you tell them  
that everything they suffered, the hell they lived through, was all part of some glorious lesson?"  
  
A shrug of the shoulders was his answer. "I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong." She smiled at him  
again, delighting in the feeling of just being alive.  
  
Peace held them like a mother's cradling arms and that was a taste of pure bliss. For Lass, who  
had been born into the rebellion and never known a single moment without fear and Oliver, the  
writer of plays that brought terror to him, this was what it meant to be victorious. The fear was  
passing away. The world they'd always known was changing for the better. Perhaps it was  
according to a holy plan but perhaps not.  
  
Oliver took Lass's hand in his and held it. He said nothing. Rough fingers entwined with her's,  
she closed out the world in favor of a single thought. That if this moment were scripted, how  
could it feel so wonderfully real?  
  
"You were right about me."  
  
Lass rested her head on Oliver's shoulder and sighed. For the first time in her life, she felt hope.  
"What was I right about?"  
  
"I can love." His voice was almost a whisper, so low the words could barely be heard over the  
cheering mass of rebels. Oliver gently put an arm around Lass's shoulders and pulled her close.  
As they sat together, watching the celebration, hope washed over them. Peace soothed away  
the guilt and pain in their hearts.  
  
Love, so long forgotten, so sadly overlooked, made them live again.  
  
*****  
  
"Eckhart is what?" Bo Longstreet asked, looking up from a thick sheaf of papers he'd been  
thumbing through. Intelligence reports were coming in worldwide and every one brought  
another problem. Pockets of resistance had formed across the globe. Some of Eckhart's lesser  
henchmen, such as the Chief of the Arsenal, were able to rally popular support against the  
rebellion because Bo and Angel were its leaders. Anti-Feral sentiment was strong in some parts  
of the Empire. "What did you say?"  
  
Standing in the doorway of what had been the office of a GSA general, Angel Longstreet's face  
showed shock and joy in equal portions. "Eckhart is dead."  
  
"What?" She suddenly had her husband's full attention. "The bastard is dead? How? When?  
Who killed him?" Eyes turning snarling yellow for a moment, Bo slammed a fist down on the  
desk. "Damn. I wanted to put that monster on trial. We could have used that as a weapon  
against these little tin dictators. Now, we've lost the chance."  
  
"Does it really matter? Mason Eckhart is dead." Angel walked into the room and practically  
collapsed into a hard plastic chair. "His pod in the God Chamber didn't open with the rest of  
them. When engineers tried to crack it, they were nearly killed by a security system. We had to  
evacuate the room. About three minutes later, someone heard a sound." Her eyes seemed to  
go distant, as if she were returning in her mind to another place and time. A look of great  
sadness formed. "So many lives lost in the fight, so many people destroyed because he wanted  
to be God. Now, he's dead." Angel snapped her fingers suddenly and loudly, which made Bo  
jerk in his seat. "Just like that. Gone."  
  
"What exactly happened?"  
  
The question hung in the air for a little while, hovering and preparing the swoop down like a  
hawk. Angel started to answer, paused to consider, opened her mouth to speak then shut it.  
Finally, after silence had grown too lengthy, she started speaking in a quiet voice.  
  
"Eckhart was electrocuted."  
  
*****  
  
Catherine Hartman, or Catherine Eckhart, or even Emperor Eckhart if one wanted to call her  
such, lay on a cot by herself. She was strapped in place securely by thick leather belts and a  
subdermal governor was clamped to the back of her neck. For most of the last four hours, the  
time that had passed since her attempt on Emma DeLauro's life, she'd been crying. Two  
telempaths and a skilled telepath had broken down many years of brainwashing. Just before her  
conscious mind was overwhelmed with the memories of her many actions while under Eckhart's  
spell, she'd actually managed to say "thank you."  
  
Now, alone with her guilt, all she could do was weep and sputter out three words, over and over  
again. "I'm so sorry." Her entire vocabulary seemed reduced to this sentence. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Fragmented jumbles of memory floated about in Catherine's head. She didn't want to focus.  
There was so much pain and suffering, all relayed by her to the world. Though she'd received all  
her commandments from Eckhart, standing and occasional, Catherine had always felt fulfilled by  
their proper execution. A part of her, the part that biologically was of Mason Eckhart, seemed  
to dominate her entire body in her years of service to the Emperor. Even now, part of her  
hungered for the easy thrill of power.  
  
"I'm so sorry." She whimpered as faces became clear in the dark jigsaw of what had been.  
Uncountable sins were on her head and, worst of all, she'd enjoyed their commission. Catherine  
couldn't imagine being anything other than what she had been made into. A year of  
brainwashing, four years of training, and then she'd ruled the globe until a few hours ago. Those  
years had not been gentle for the people. "I'm so sorry." She repeated, meaning it while also  
hating the weakness in her voice and loathing the victims of her crimes.  
  
The evil in her soul had not been natural or even easy to find. Eckhart's best "reeducators" had  
spent that one year hard at work. In the end, they'd found the small beast in Catherine Hartman  
and grown it into a monster capable of terrible things. No one could have withstood their efforts  
forever. Most would have succumbed much earlier.  
  
Catherine wanted to die and be finished with the charade. Her life was at an end one way or the  
other. Psionics could free her true self from Eckhart's created persona but they could not  
absolve her guilt. No one could do that. Not even Catherine herself. Maybe not even God.  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
*****  
  
Against the orders of several professionals Emma was not resting in bed. Instead, she was  
standing beside Adam, feeling much better thanks to Charlotte and another medic. Together,  
they stood outside a room which, according to Eckhart's computers, contained their ticket back  
home. Emma reached out and took Adam's hand. "Do you really think this thing will work?"  
She asked quietly.  
  
"Yes. I do." His voice sounding very sad and a little defeated, Adam started to open the door  
and then stopped. "Hindsight. He killed at least ten Psionic-Moleculars building it."  
  
Emma looked down at the floor. "We have to use it Adam. There aren't any more  
Psionic-Moleculars left. Eckhart prevented them from being born." She shook her head and  
then, abruptly, kicked the wall as hard as she could. The pain helped to keep the anger under  
control. "Damn him." She hissed, wincing with hatred for Hindsight, disgust over what had been  
done to build it. Emma had been afraid when she first learned of Eckhart's dominance of the  
world. Now, she felt nothing about this entire future except disgust. Exceping rebels and decent  
civilians, the world had seemingly devolved into a place of madness, slaughter; a land of  
depravity and chaos.  
  
"It'll be okay." Adam whispered, squeezing her hand, knowing instinctively how to make her  
feel better. With a gentle smile, he drew a breath and opened the door to Hindsight. It slid open  
with a whoosh of air. Two heavily armed rebels stood guard, while a former Imperial Guard  
worked at the controls. "Are you sure you want to leave without saying goodbye?" He asked  
Emma as they walked in.  
  
She nodded. "I don't think I could stand it."  
  
The Imperial Guard looked up at the sound. "I don't believe it! Adam, Emma, you're the ones  
who are going to take a ride in this thing?"  
  
"Trudie?" They both gasped in astonishment. Standing at the controls of Hindsight was Trudie  
Orion, alive and well. She stood their grinning for a moment before coming forward and hugging  
them both.  
  
"Got drafted into the Zombie Brigade. Apparently, Van Negus thought I'd be of some use. The  
Chief of Medicine and Science finished work on me just before the Citadel was attacked. I hate  
to say it but I was fighting for Eckhart for a while there." Trudie hissed in annoyance, her forked  
tongue jetting out. "Thankfully, someone turned off the mind control systems."  
  
Emma beamed at Adam and kissed him on the cheek. "That was this wonderful man right here."  
  
"Really? I owe you a lot Adam." Trudie shook his hand and then, in a burst of careless joy,  
grabbed him and gave a kiss full on the mouth. The look she got from Emma was understanding  
but also annoyed. "Sorry. I just had to do that. Thank you. You have no idea what it was like."  
She touched the spot between her eyes were Van Negus had sent a bullet. "I'm lucky. Most of  
my memories are intact, saved by the pickling juice they shot me up with. Missing a few years  
here and there, but nothing compared to some."  
  
Trudie's face turned very cold suddenly, making her look extremely intimidating in the ivory  
uniform. It suddenly became easy to imagine that she had been fighting as an Imperial Guard  
mere hours ago. Emma wondered briefly how many rebels Trudie had killed. Then she brushed  
the thought aside and wished that she could forget that she'd even conceived the question.  
  
"Some of the other Guard are suffering. Most of them are finding out that they're nearly  
complete amnesiacs. The rest are suffering sever withdrawal from the mind control elements of  
the nanomachines. I'm one of the lucky few not suffering anything." Trudie smiled a very sad  
smile. "Except guilt. We're done here." She motioned for the other two rebels to leave with  
her. As they walked out the door, Trudie turned back and favored Adam and Emma with a  
rebel salute, her hand coming up to seemingly shield her eyes. "Godspeed."  
  
Then she was gone again.  
  
Adam sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "This has been a day for surprises." He said  
simply and walked over to Hindsight's control panel. Emma was right beside him. "It shouldn't  
take long to get this working."  
  
"Wait!" Someone yelled from behind them. Emma turned and saw Shalimar standing there,  
breathing hard. "Wait, please. I have to talk to you." Her voice was so filled with fear and  
sadness that Adam stopped working and turned. Shalimar walked closer, her eyes brimming  
with tears. "I have to tell you what happened to us. You've got to stop it from happening again."  
  
"Shal, we're going to stop Eckhart from ever rising. You don't have to worry about that."  
Emma said, taking her friend's hand.  
  
Shalimar was on the brink of breaking down in a fit of sobs. "That's not the only thing you have  
to stop. We made other mistakes Emma, personal mistakes. Those have to be fixed too." Her  
voice trembled as she spoke, nothing like the cool confident tones of the Shalimar Fox Emma  
knew. This Shalimar had suffered horribly. When she began to speak, she had their full  
attention. "Brennan and I got married two years after you vanished. A year later, I was  
pregnant. We were having problems at the time and. . . well, Brennan always thought he was the  
father." Her voice broke and she cried a little. "I was so stupid. We all were. And then. . . she  
was gone."  
  
Emma blinked in surprise while Adam let out a slow breath. His eyes found Shalimar's and  
there was something terribly sad there. "What happened?" He asked.  
  
"I don't know. My daughter was taken from me. Brennan and I had to go into the city for  
medical help." Her voice was cold and dead sounding for a moment, then it reclaimed some of  
its vitality. "Jesse's looking through Eckhart's files, he thinks he might be able to find her.  
Eckhart's people probably indoctrinated her into their scientific research department. That's  
what her profile would have called for. There's a real chance that she's alive. Somewhere."  
Shalimar sighed. "Brennan and I looked for a long time. Never really stopped but. . . ." Her  
voice trailed off and for a moment, she was lost again. Then she blinked and remembered where  
she was.  
  
"I'm sorry. My problems are so meaningless compared to the suffering of this world. I'm such  
an egotist."  
  
Emma took a step forward and put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "No, Shal,  
you're not. You just want to make it right. There's nothing wrong with that. Adam and I are  
going back to fix things and we can and will make sure that you don't the same mistakes twice.  
Okay?"  
  
A warm hug was Emma's response. "Thanks. I screwed up so bad, Emma. Things were bad,  
really bad. Brennan and I started tearing into each other after we nearly. . . ." She closed her  
mouth and shook her head, backing out of the embrace. "That's not important. Listen, when  
you go back, do me a favor and check on Charlotte, okay? I know it sounds a little strange, but  
she really helped when you were gone."  
  
"Talking about me behind my back?" Everyone turned toward the door and there was Charlotte  
Cook, followed by Brennan and Jesse. "Sorry to interrupt but we wanted to see you off."  
  
Brennan stepped up to Shalimar, put his arm around her waist, and favored her with a quiet  
smile. There was a look on his face that could not be read. It was too closed, nothing like the  
Brennan of thirty years ago. This man was harder and far less emotional. He was guarded.  
"Told them?" His voice sounded the same as it had so long ago for them and such a short time,  
not even a week, for Adam and Emma.  
  
Shalimar didn't say anything. Brennan grunted and nodded his head. "Figured." He turned his  
gaze on his former leader, a penetrating stare that made him feel uncomfortable. "Adam, I hope  
you realize just how messed up things were without the two of you. Don't get dead the moment  
you go back. Okay?"  
  
"You have my word I'll stay alive long enough to make things better." Adam said and calmly  
shook Brennan's hand.  
  
Still standing in the doorway, Charlotte and Jesse watched the scene, feeling decidedly like  
outsiders. "Guess we should go and make our goodbyes." He muttered, not really wanting to.  
It was hard to accept that in a few moments the entire world, the very history he'd lived through,  
would cease. In the long years of Eckhart's rule, Jesse had been through more hell than he  
thought he could survive. Somehow, he'd gotten through all of it. Now, knowing that soon the  
struggle of his life would be erased and rewritten, he found that he was afraid.  
  
"Things will be better. Adam and Emma will make them better. Maybe we'll even get to see  
each other again." Charlotte whispered, her voice a soft breeze in the dead stillness of Jesse's  
fear. Her fingers brushed his hand. "You should talk to them first. I probably shouldn't even be  
here."  
  
"You did a lot of good for Mutant X." Jesse said quickly, a smile forming on his face. "I can  
think of some people who wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. I guess, Emma or Adam will  
save them now." Jesse's face started to cloud up again. "I'm going to say goodbye. To  
everything." He muttered the last under his breath and started forward, mentally recalling much  
of the bad and the few good things that had happened in the thirty year gap between Adam and  
Emma's departure and return.  
  
Some memories he hoped would still exist in the new and better future they'd create. The time  
he, Shalimar, and Brennan went out to save an entire division's worth of children from Eckhart's  
Reeducation Centers. That first moment that he realized how much he'd come to depend upon  
Charlotte and her wicked sense of humor. His most treasured memories revolved around his  
friends; Shalimar, Brennan, Charlotte and Evan Dane were the center of his world for many long  
years. When Adam told them Evan was dead, they'd all cried.  
  
"Hey." Jesse said as he stood in front of Emma, his eyes going from her sweet face to Adam's  
fatherly one. It occurred to him that once, long ago, he'd thought about Emma as a potential  
girlfriend. Now, oddly, he could almost see her as a sister. He'd found love after they'd  
vanished, a love that was still with him. "You know, I missed you two."  
  
Adam smiled and took his hand. Emma hugged him a little. "Missed you too Jesse. We missed  
all of you." Emma said, a faint hint of sadness in her voice. Adam nodded and wiped a tear  
from his own eye before glancing over at Charlotte, who still stood away from them.  
  
"Charlotte?" She turned toward the sound of Adam's voice. "Thank you for helping Emma. If  
you hadn't known how cure that poison, I don't know if she'd standing be here with me now."  
He held out a hand, waiting for her to come forward.  
  
Hesitantly, as if she thought she might be rejected at the last moment, Charlotte stepped up and  
took Adam's hand. With a sigh of relief, she gave him a hug. "I'm sorry I messed you up all  
those years ago." To Emma, "sorry I bashed you in head with that vase." She spoke with  
complete sincerity and much serious concern that those slights were still held against her, even  
now, when she'd spent years aiding Mutant X. It brought a round of genuine laughter to the  
group and, just for a moment, it felt like old times. Charlotte Cook, of all people, made them  
laugh and feel the needed release of emotions that had built up so quickly.  
  
The moment passed and Emma shook Charlotte's hand. "I think saving my life evens the score.  
Same goes for you Brennan."  
  
"Nah. I think my books are unbalanced. You owe me." Brennan grinned and shook his head,  
looking for a moment like his old self again. "Tell that handsome young man I said that you're  
going to clean his room."  
  
"But my room's clean." Joked Jesse, giving Brennan a good-natured poke in the side.  
  
"Very funny smart guy."  
  
A loud rumble ended the conversation. Forgotten in the last minute talking and goodbyes,  
Hindsight had been slowly powering back up after rebel scientist's had shut it off hours ago.  
Power flowed once more through the seven pylons, arcing between them in searing streams of  
lightening that would have made Brennan jealous if he weren't in awe. Hindsight's immense  
force acted on the very fabric of time itself, generating a sphere at the center of the pylons that  
was a chronometric gateway. Trudie had started the reactivations sequence and Adam had set  
the destination. Now, he turned back to the controls and entered the final commands to activate  
a safety field that would allow movement through time to be painless.  
  
"It's time." He said and almost laughed because it just struck him as funny, the unintentional pun,  
plus the fact that he felt like Arnold Schwarzenegger should be popping up somewhere. For  
days, he'd envisioned this moment. Going home. It should have been joyous but it was somber.  
Adam saw his team, how much they'd changed and yet how they were still a family. Part of him  
didn't want to leave them again. Still, he knew in his heart that he and Emma had to go back,  
they had a scared duty to stop the dark future from occurring.  
  
Emma turned away from the team and stared at Hindsight. Overwhelming feelings of hope and  
fear merged with a sense of sadness. Although she hoped to make changes in the past, she  
owed much to what had been Eckhart's Empire of Evil. If not for the trip, being alone with  
Adam, their mutual affections might never have come to the surface.  
  
Now, as the moment to leave sped toward her, Emma found that she wanted to stay a little  
longer and get to know the people her friends had become. Yet, her heart knew that this was  
not her world. "I'm ready, Adam. As long as I'm with you." She took his hand and they started  
walking to the platform near Hindsight's back that led to the sphere of time. Climbing the steps,  
static electricity teased their hair and coursed over their skin, occasionally sparking. The minor  
stings reminded Emma just how dangerous Hindsight was without its protective fields engaged.  
She wondered briefly who had died in here before the rebels secured the machine.  
  
"Emma! Wait!" Running forward suddenly, Charlotte thrust a small leather bound volume with  
gold script ahead of her. "Jesse gave me this book and I want him to have it again, even if he  
doesn't understand why. It's important, Emma. Please?" She pressed it into Emma's hands.  
"Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me."  
  
Before Emma could ask, Charlotte turned away and walked quickly back to stand with the  
others, who were giving her curious looks. She said something to them that was lost in the  
ocean of noise coming from Hindsight. "I wonder what that was all about?" Emma muttered as  
she shoved the book into her pocket.  
  
"Ready?" Adam asked, turning back to her, oblivious to what had just happened.  
  
"Yeah. Time to go home."  
  
He nodded. Hesitantly at first, but with ever increasing determination, Adam moved closer to  
the time sphere. Chronometric forces were bound in this orb and held in place by the pylons,  
whose power surged all around him. One false calculation, one mistake, and his plunge into this  
gateway would end in a horrifying and painful death. Adam glanced back at Emma. She smiled  
and gave him a thumbs up to show her confidence. One deep breath and he turned back to the  
Hindsight sphere and leapt forward, easily vanishing into the depths.  
  
Next, moving quickly now that Adam's fate was guaranteed, one way or the other, Emma dove  
into the gateway. As she disappeared into it, a thought crossed her mind that even if the machine  
had killed Adam, there wouldn't have been any hesitation in following him. From now until the  
end, their destinies were joined, irreversibly linked.  
"They're gone. Again." Jesse Kilmartin muttered after a few moments had passed. Watching  
them leave left him with a feeling of deja vu and the desire to scream, just let all his frustrations  
out. Everything that he and Shalimar and Brennan and Charlotte and Evan had worked for had  
been in shambles. Then, miraculously, Adam and Emma reappeared and fixed everything. The  
entire experience left Jesse feeling, for the first time in years, like an afterthought. He felt useless.  
  
Standing beside him, Charlotte Cook nudged him. "Don't think. When you think you start  
depressing yourself."  
  
"Yeah, I do that don't I." A faint hint of warmth entered his features again. "So, do you think  
we should let Brennan fry this thing now or—." Jesse was cut of suddenly by a metal panel that  
seemed to explode from the wall. It flew straight at him and, if not for the quick reflexes of  
Shalimar Fox, both he and Charlotte probably would have died, too stunned to act.  
  
As it were, their favorite Feral leapt from her place beside Brennan and knocked both of them  
sideways. They met the floor with a heavy thud that took Jesse's breath away. In the instant it  
took for his eyes to focus on the area where the panel had come from, he saw a woman dressed  
in GSA black, a huge backpack and another bag under one arm, shooting out of the wall like  
some kind of giant rat. One hand held the strap of her duffel, the other was filled with a heavy  
caliber machine pistol, which she immediately pointed at Brennan.  
  
The weapon blazed in a highspeed chattering song of death as telekinetic force lifted the woman  
off her feet and helped to propel her like a cannon ball to the Hindsight departure platform. She  
landed hard, slamming against the metal guard rails and almost losing her bag. A look of triumph  
on her face quickly turned to dismay when she saw that Brennan was unharmed. Not a single  
bullet had made it through the electrical force field he'd generated, a trick he'd learned mere  
days before being captured and placed in stasis.  
  
Still, the woman didn't let the setback effect her. Her pistol flew up and started raining death  
down on Jesse and the women. Without hesitation, he took Charlotte's hand and Shalimar's  
arm, gulped breath, and massed all three of them out before a bullet could hit. If he could have,  
he would have laughed at the look of misery and annoyance on the GS agent's face. Then it  
occurred to him where she was standing.  
  
If she followed Adam and Emma back into the past. . . .  
  
Brennan must have been thinking along a parallel track of reason. His hands were circling, his  
protective field still holding for a few precious seconds, generating a powerful jolt of fury. Just as  
the woman realized what he was doing and started to dive into the Hindsight gateway, an  
enormous barrage of many lightening bolts surged out of Brennan's fingertips. Electronics fried  
instantly under the intense heat and power. Hindsight made a noise very much like a infant's wail  
and began to critically malfunction. Even as Brennan raced forward, releasing a wave of energy,  
the GSA woman vanished into the suddenly unstable time sphere.  
  
Seconds later, something exploded within Hindsight's power relays and the vast chronometric  
forces held at bay by the machine's incredible design, were cut off before they could do any  
damage. Smoke and sparks seeped out of cracks in the metal. The scent of ozone was  
powerful in the room. Hindsight wrenched to a halt. A red warning light glowed weakly on the  
control panel and a thin warning siren wheezed. It was the last thing the machine ever did. Less  
than ten seconds after Brennan had launched his attack, Hindsight was no more than an extra  
large hunk of scrap.  
  
"Did you get that woman?" Shalimar gasped, clinging to Jesse as he tried to help both her and  
Charlotte to their feet. Her eyes were focused on Brennan and there was terror in them.  
"Brennan, for the love of God, tell me you got her!"  
  
Everyone stared at him, waiting. The fate of the world, perhaps even all of humanity, rested on  
this one question. They all knew how dangerous a GSA operative could be. It had been the  
GSA that captured Shalimar and Brennan, who took Charlotte later, and they'd also taken Jesse  
by surprise. No amount of optimism could hide the fact that any soldier of Eckhart's brutal  
regime, arriving in the past, would mean trouble on a global scale.  
  
Brennan stood silent for a long time, his eyes turned toward the wreak of Hindsight. "I'm not  
sure." He whispered softly. "I don't know."  
  
END OF PART SEVEN 


	8. The Aftermath Of Dark Revelations

Epilogue:  
The Aftermath of Dark Revelations  
  
The world spun around Adam and Emma as they plummeted through the blind eternities of time.  
Tumbling and twisting, like clothes in a dryer, both felt their true present rushing forward to meet them. Gradually, the chaos of time travel gave way to the ordered perfection of reality. After no more than seven relative seconds, Adam was thrown out of a swirling gateway. He struck the hard, packed ground and rolled for a meter or two, coming to rest face up beside some rocks.  
Next, Emma crashed down beside him, jamming her leg painfully into Adam's side. Behind and above them, collapsing in on itself in a disturbing image of abstraction that would have driven Picasso mad, the temporal Hindsight gateway rapidly dissolved away. Reality seemed to fold and twist inward, energy pulsed and sparked at the edges, and then it was gone, leaving no trace of itself save Adam and Emma.  
  
Coughing and rubbing his side, Adam sat up and surveyed the area, orienting himself to their new place in time and space. To assure himself that she was there, he reached out and lightly touched Emma's arm. "Are you okay?" His voice sounded slightly hoarse but it wasn't the pain filled groan he'd made when they'd first entered the black future.  
  
Emma turned toward him, a hesitant smile on her face. "I'm fine. A little surprised about that but. . . ." She shrugged and started looking around. The area seemed familiar. Rough terrain made up of parched dirt packed hard, enormous skeleton trees, chunks of rock standing about like tombstones on an alien world, and off in the distance a construction project of some sort.  
She sniffed the air, catching a whiff of something noxious. Her nose wrinkled at the stench.  
"Ugh, smells like sewage."  
  
"The battle." Adam muttered. He turned to Emma, a look of surprise on his face. "This is near the area where we were battling Portia Klein and Darius Monaco!"  
  
"We're back in our own time then. We're home." Emma felt exhilarated to be breathing the free air of a world that had yet to be taken over by a madman. A grin sprang into being, brightening her face as she turned it toward the sun. She sighed and felt tension leaving her body. It was over. They'd made it back together. Everything was going to be alright now.  
  
Adam was lurching to his feet. The pain he felt was minimal and expected after such a rough landing. His muscles were working properly and nothing felt overly taxed. A stray thought started repeating in his brain. 'Why did it hurt so much to travel into the future?' For the moment, Adam dismissed the thought and lent Emma a hand. She took it and he gently pulled her up.  
  
As Emma rose, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Adam. Contact brought each of them a feeling of deep comfort. Embraced, both knew that their lives were forever changed. They could pretend, for a time, that they were still the same as they'd been before they'd gone forward, still alone in the world. In the end, that pretension would fall away and reveal the truth. It would reveal that they were in love and heaven help the fool who tried to come between them. Emma looked up at Adam's handsome face, her features radiating devotion. He leaned down and kissed her, which made her smile even harder.  
  
"We're home. Now, let's go find the others." Emma whispered happily. She stepped away from Adam, looked around, and felt a burst of emotion coming from a nearby grove of dead trees. "Over there!" Her voice pitched high with relief. Even though everything seemed to be going perfectly, there was always a chance for something to go wrong.  
  
Trust Adam, of all people, to find that one opportunity.  
  
"Wait!" Adam called out, stopping Emma as she started running. "We need to be careful. If I'm right, judging by the sun, we're here before we left. Do you understand what that means?" He walked over to her and took her hand. "If we interfered with the events that sent us to that future. . . ." Adam let Emma fill in the blanks with her own mind.  
  
"We can't do that." She said simply and turned to go.  
  
"Emma, what about that future? What about all the things Eckhart did? We have to make sure that they don't happen. If we stopped ourselves from being sent to the future, then there wouldn't be any chance of that nightmare coming to pass." Adam turned her back to face him,  
desperation in his voice. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to change what had happened, to change the course of events that sent them into Eckhart's Empire. At the same time, his heart and soul desperately commanded that he let the battle happen just as he remembered it. He wanted to be with Emma. He couldn't imagine his life without her in it. Not anymore.  
  
For the longest time, there was silence between them. Then, very suddenly, Emma pulled Adam to her and just held him tightly. She brought his ear close to her mouth and whispered to him.  
"That future won't exist now that we're back here. It's dead. All the people we meet and all the things we saw, they're just memories now. If we stopped Portia from sending us into the future,  
those memories would be gone. They deserve to be remembered Adam. And more than that," Emma squeezed Adam's hand, touched his cheek with her delicate fingers, "if we stopped ourselves from going into the darkness, our love would be lost too. Just gone without a trace. It never would have happened. We never would have realized our feelings, never would have accepted them." She felt a tear slide down her face. "As long as we're alive, we'll stop Eckhart and people like him. That doesn't mean we have sacrifice our happiness, does it?"  
  
Adam buried his face in the crook of Emma's neck, breathing deep the scent of her hair. "No.  
We shouldn't have to suffer." He moved back and reached out, brushed away the bead of sorrow from her cheek, and let himself hope. "Emma. All of my life, I've made choices that I regret. I've done things that in the end have hurt people." He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed the back. Eyes filled with an odd mix of happiness and sadness, Adam sighed.  
"I've made a lot mistakes. I'm not going to make this one. You're right. We're not going to try and change the battle. When Mutant X beats Portia and Darius, we'll just walk over and tell them about the future and what happened there."  
  
"What about us? Are we going to tell them about us?" Emma asked, worry softening her voice into a whisper.  
  
"No. We'll wait as long as you want."  
  
She sighed with great relief. "Thank you. I know I'm worrying about nothing, but there's a part of me that just won't stop believing that they're going to hate us."  
  
"Don't worry about that for right now Emma. Let's just go and watch the fight. We'll worry about the rest later."  
  
Together, they walked toward the grove of dead trees. Together, they hid and watched as the battle that brought them into a nightmare was fought. It was bizarre, watching themselves and their friends. It felt wrong to not try and change the course of events. Still, as they held hands,  
they felt in the depths of their souls that it wasn't half as wrong as letting this love between them die. Their love could conquer anything, even the future.  
  
Standing in the middle of a clearing in the skeleton tree forest, Darius Monaco raised his hands and generated a misty cloud of greenish toxic gas. Without hesitation, he used his mutant talents to propel it forward at the Mutant X team. The cloud seemed to consciously streak toward Brennan Mulwray, who was busy trading lightening bolts with Portia Klein, Darius's fiancé.  
Before it could strike Brennan, Shalimar Fox dove into him, knocking him out of harm's way just as the cloud streaked by.  
  
"Darius, watch where you spray!" Portia yelled as she accelerated her molecules and dashed out of the cloud's path. She slowed and had to take a breath. "Unless that was your special way to show me I'm loved, in which case I really prefer flowers." Portia laughed as she dodged an attack by Brennan, who still hadn't managed to hit his target once. The woman let her red hair swirl in the mid morning sunlight as she danced out of range, putting her childhood ballet training to use. With practiced ease, she loosed a bolt of energy that almost hit Shalimar. The stasis effect instead froze a snake that was unfortunate enough to be slithering across the sand.  
  
"I'll remember that for Valentine's Day babe!" Darius called back as he met a punch from Jesse Kilmartin with a hard thrust of his own fist. He countered every move then delivered a powerful blow like a pile driver, bruising two of his enemy's ribs. In an instant, Jesse was down on the ground holding his chest. He coughed and a thin line of blood trickled from his lips.  
  
Standing over him like a gladiator of the old age, Darius raised his hands over Jesse's face.  
"Time for you to take your medicine boy!" He began to generate another glob of chemicals but didn't get a chance to use it. A psi-blast struck him just as he was about to kill Jesse.  
  
From his place in the battle, Adam Kane spun around, and practically roared with pride. Emma DeLauro was coming into the fight, running from a car hastily parked in the middle of a small roadway. She headed straight for Darius, delivering a spinning kick to his head. Adam had been on the sidelines, trying to repair a tranquilizer gun that Portia had damaged by placing the barrel alone in stasis. The weapon had almost blown apart when the dart was forced backwards into the firing mechanism along with the explosive force that had propelled it.  
  
A part of him wondered why she was there. That morning, he'd sent her on a solo mission to help a new mutant in the underground. Her fellow Psionic, a child named Regina Valmont, had recently undergone an incredible growth in power that had almost revocably shattered her mind.  
The poor girl had needed immediate attention and Emma had been the natural choice.  
  
Now, watching her fight with Darius Monaco, he felt a sense of relief at her appearance. Ever since Mutant X had intervened to foil Portia and Darius's seventh bank robbery, they'd been on the defensive. The couple were lethal, coordinating attacks without any signals between them and fighting ruthlessly, fearlessly, and aggressively. They moved like assassins despite their simple backgrounds. Before turning to a life of crime, Darius had worked at a factory and Portia had been an unsuccessful artist. According to the information Adam had compiled on them, their criminal enterprises had begun immediately after they met. The money from the first three bank robberies had gone into buying a house. The next two paid off all their debts. The sixth bought rings, a booking at a nice chapel, and other things necessary for a nice wedding. This robbery was apparently meant to finance the reception that would follow their wedding.  
  
Despite the psi-blast and Emma's well-aimed kick to the head, Darius recovered with frightening ease. When the battle begun, he'd employed his mutant gift to generate high levels of adrenaline in his own system, boosting his strength and endurance. Apparently, he'd also taken in something that protected him from psionic attacks. He struck back hard, backhanding Emma with such power Adam could hear the blow from ten meters away. By some incredible stroke of luck, she was able to block him in such a way that most of the energy was diverted. Still, she staggered under the counterattack.  
  
Portia Klein, however, wasn't doing as well as her lover. A lucky stasis blast had temporarily frozen Brennan, but now she faced Shalimar in hand-to-hand. Fighting a Feral wasn't easy,  
even for a person like her who had trained to face anyone. The redhead realized how outclassed she was when Shalimar faked an opening in her defenses. Portia went for the kill,  
driving her fist straight at her enemy's face, hoping to slam the cartilage of the nose into her blonde brain. As her fist came forward, Shalimar suddenly dropped to the ground, pulled back her legs against her chest, and drove them forward with tremendous speed and power.  
  
The blow threw Portia back and left the redhead gasping for breath. "Darius! Help!" She called weakly out as Shalimar appeared over her, ready to deliver a knockout.  
  
"Portia!" Darius roared in fear and rage at the sight of his fiancé on the ground, at the mercy of their enemy. He spun away from a clever attack by Emma, slammed a foot into her back to send her sprawling, and quickly formed a dose of industrial strength tranquilizer. Even as he let the cloud of sleeping gas fly, Darius was dropping down deftly to smash his fist into Jesse's skull.  
  
Having just managed to recover from the last blow he'd taken, Jesse wasn't about to let Darius do anymore damage to him. He took a deep breath and massed out, his body becoming rock hard. Unable to arrest his punch, Darius felt his hand breaking as it struck Jesse's face. A half second later, he was knocked back by a massed out fist.  
  
Adam reloaded the tranquilizer gun he'd brought with them. Against a mutant like Portia Klein,  
it seemed the only useful weapon. She was standing over Shalimar's unconscious body,  
preparing to crush her throat under a boot heel. "Portia!" Adam yelled, startling her as he took aim and fired. A tiny dart zipped across the battlefield and bit into her arm just as she began to accelerate her molecules. The effect was interesting. Since she'd been using her ability to manipulate the speed of molecules, the tranquilizer filled her body rapidly. In fact, it disbursed through her system so quickly that it didn't have time to really affect her. Instead, she became woozy and a little giddy, as if she'd been drinking too much. "Damn." Adam started to reload.  
  
Darius stumbled toward his love. "Portia? What did he do to you?" He asked as he came closer. Suddenly, before she could answer, Emma slammed her fist into his back. Falling forward, he twisted and kicked back, knocking her away. "Damn little pest, why don't you take a little rest! Portia, put her in stasis!" Darius turned over on the ground and grabbed Portia's bare ankle, injecting adrenaline and several other chemicals into her body to boost her powers.  
  
"Thanks for the hand my love." Portia said with a warm grin. She raised her hands and gathered her strength for a full powered stasis attack. At the same moment, Brennan came out from the stasis field he'd been trapped in and saw Shalimar lying on the ground unconscious.  
His heart seared with rage. Hands raised, he circled them, electricity arcing from his fingertips.  
At the moment Portia began to release her attack, Brennan struck both her and Darius with his own. Electrical power flowed into the stasis field, warping it and empowering it further.  
  
Simultaneously, as Elemental and Molecular attacks merged into one powerful beam, Adam abandoned his tranquilizer gun. He dove forward to try and block the blast, shielding Emma.  
As the energy washed over them, it twisted and curled, bent and shattered. The stasis effect started but then seemed to change, accelerating molecules around the two teammates. In an instant, a blinding flash of light bloomed before all who watched. Power engulfed first Adam and then Emma. An eye blink later, they were gone, leaving no trace of themselves save a patch of ground that had been frozen and sped up at the same time, resulting in molecular instability.  
  
Everyone was stunned by the disappearances. Portia Klein stared blankly down at her own hands. Brennan Mulwray's mouth dropped open in shock. Jesse Kilmartin whispered a prayer.  
Darius Monaco shook his head and muttered something that sounded like "I didn't see that, no way, no how." As for Shalimar, she was still unconscious, but her nose did twitch like a kitten's at the odd scent on the breeze. A scent like ancient tombs but also like a newborn's skin. The smell of past and future combined, arrested motion and forward progression.  
  
The first to recover from his astonishment was Jesse. He ran forward, took a deep breath, and slammed his fist into Darius Monaco's face, knocking the man down. Brennan saw this, drew another arch of electricity into his hands, and hit Portia again. This time, with no outlet for the power, the lightening kicked her off her feet. She collapsed beside her lover.  
  
"What the hell happened Jesse?" Brennan asked desperately as he dropped down to Shalimar's side. He quickly checked her pulse and breathed a sigh of relief at the strength of it. "Where are Adam and Emma? Are they in stasis or. . . or something else?" He had almost let himself think that it were possible for them to be dead. Brennan closed his eyes and refused to believe such a thing might be.  
  
Jesse slowly approached the area where they'd been standing. "If they were in stasis, we'd be able to see them." Cautiously, he placed his hand through the air where they'd been. He felt nothing. Cool morning air that was rapidly warming in the summer sun, a gentle breeze, maybe the slightest tingle of static electricity, but nothing that might help him to figure out what had happened to his teammates. "Is Shalimar okay?"  
  
Brennan nodded. "She's fine. What about them?"  
  
Before Jesse could come up with an answer or even attempt a speculation, two figures emerged from the nearby grove of skeleton trees. They rose from behind a rock and, at first, Jesse had the craziest thought that they were traveling wizard pranksters coming out to say "gotcha!"  
  
Actually, they were Adam and Emma. As they walked up to Jesse, Brennan, and the still unconscious Shalimar, expressions of matching uncertainty on their faces, it was obvious that something momentous had occurred. Each looked different than when they'd disappeared just a few seconds ago. Their eyes seemed filled with wonder and they walked as if a terrible burden had only recently been taken from them. Adam's clothes were heavily wrinkled and looked as if he'd been wearing them for several long days. There were a few tears and some stains that hadn't been there before they'd disappeared. Some looked like blood. Emma was dressed in a different outfit entirely than she'd been wearing less than a minute ago. Yet, it too appeared to be well-worn and had obvious blood stains and what might have been damage from a knife in several places.  
  
From the ground, Shalimar groaned and opened her eyes. She sat up, Brennan dropping down to help her. "Oh, my head. Feels like someone's been tap dancing on my brains." She noticed the way Jesse and Brennan were staring at Adam and Emma. Her keen Feral senses took in the changes in their appearances and the subtle scents of a world that she'd never smelled before.  
"What the hell did I miss?" She asked in pure perplexed puzzlement.  
  
Emma glanced at Adam, her lower lip trembling slightly, then she turned to Jesse. "You're not going to have look for us this time. We're back and we're not leaving ever again." She smiled warmly.  
  
"Definitely not." Adam echoed, his own face slowly warming to an expression of deep relief and happiness. He shared a look with Emma, one that neither Jesse nor Brennan nor even Shalimar quite understood, then turned back to them.  
  
"We've got one hell of story to tell you."  
  
Somewhere in the city, at the moment Adam and Emma began the story of the dark future, when the collective ears of Mutant X were just starting to take in that horror, another traveler arrived.  
She tumbled out of a bastardized tunnel through history, an anachronistic soul with a will to survive beyond comprehension.  
  
She fell from the opening and struck hard concrete. The impact dislocated her shoulder, made her wince with anguish as she rolled three meters, and finally brought a scream from her body when she struck a trash Dumpster. Tears of pain rolled down her face. Still, this woman rose from the ground in an instant, her good arm at the ready to punch or block, her legs ready to kick. Once certain of her solitude, she reset her shoulder by slamming it into the Dumpster at a precise angle. She bit her lip and tasted blood, the pain was terrible.  
  
And that was wonderful. No matter how much her body ached, no matter the blood or anguish,  
she was alive. She reached behind and felt the backpack that contained her supplies. Her other bag lay where she'd first struck the ground. Over the next few days, her plan was to acquire various secondary items necessary for her mind's keenly developed plan.  
  
"History lesson number one: the future is right around the corner." Valerie Curio whispered, her cold voice filled with a strange calm. "Look out world, you thought Gabriel Ashlocke and Mason Eckhart were bad. Wait till you meet me." She smiled and hitched her pack up, bringing the weight more evenly onto her back. Her eyes surveyed the area, a dark and dank little alleyway, cut off from the sun by thick clouds of smog overhead and heavy metal fire escapes.  
Valerie sniffed the air, letting the odor play through her senses, teaching her something important about this world, this time that she had chosen to embrace.  
  
"No explosives in the wind. No ozone to indicate laser defenses. This place is utterly and completely unprepared for an all-out Neo-mutant revolution." Her face turned dark with a maniacal fanaticism, a thirst for conquest and domination. She reached into her long black coat and drew her pistol, which she had holstered in the bare instant before she'd dived into the Hindsight gateway. The weight indicated an empty clip, which was expected. Rapidly, she broke the weapon down and checked for any damage from her journey. One by one, her hands and eyes examined every piece of it, as they would later scrutinize her other resources.  
  
With a practiced flair, she snapped the pistol back together and slammed a fresh clip in, loaded it, and calmly stepped out from the alleyway. As she entered the bright light of a morning, her body seized with pain. Valerie gasped and doubled over, grabbing her middle. Pain exploded behind her eyes, deep inside of her skull. Before she knew what was happening, she was lying on the concrete, staring up at a skyline that was rapidly dimming into a grey mist.  
  
"That damn short-circuit took out the protective fields." Valerie gasped, grasping at the only possible explanation for her sudden physical collapse. Another surge of agony left her soundlessly screaming. The world dimmed and lost color, things shimmered out. Only one possible action could save her life, an immediate injection of Blue No. 2, but Valerie no longer possessed the capacity to move. Her entire body felt as if it were on fire. No, it felt like she was being frozen and burned all at the same time. In truth, there just weren't words to properly describe the sensation. Her organ functions became erratic, she felt her heart stuttering. Lungs failed to take in oxygen properly. Nerves no longer conducted vital messages from the brain to the extremities.  
  
Valerie lost consciousness very suddenly. Her last thought before she fell into the abyss of darkness, the meaningless blank of comatose oblivion, was that someone had appeared standing over her. Someone tall with medium length dark hair. Someone powerful. She vaguely wondered who he was before drifting completely away from the world and thoughts of it.  
  
Agent Valerie Curio was in a coma no more than two and three-quarter minutes after her entry into the time of Adam and Emma. Brennan of the future had stopped her after all.  
  
The Double Helix landed easily inside of Sanctuary's hanger. As the Mutant X team stepped out, they each paused to consider what their home had looked like after the future bombing. It still gave them headaches to dwell on Adam and Emma's incredible story. It was all so insane.  
Mason Eckhart ruling the world, a rebel movement led by Bo and Angel Longstreet, a Mutant X team that included a stranger named Evan Dane and their onetime enemy Charlotte Cook? It just didn't seem possible. Still, no one could argue with the emotion Adam and Emma had spoken with, especially when talking about the people they'd met.  
  
Certain facts had been left out, of course, because both Adam and Emma felt it necessary to keep secrets. Emma didn't tell them about how Van Negus died. Adam neglected to mention the child Shalimar had lost or the question of paternity. Neither of them expressed their mutual love, though someone looking for signs would have seen plenty. The way they sat, their legs turned toward each other or how each gazed at the other while they spoke, an occasional touching of hands. No lies were told but secrets were born in that moment which would wither and turn to poison if they were not someday uncovered.  
  
"I've got some work to do." Adam said as he walked away from the Double Helix. Turning back, he gave his team a friendly smile. "I'll be in the lab." His eyes lingered on Emma for a fraction longer than might be normal before he left.  
  
Brennan and Shalimar were the next to walk away, talking together about the age that would never be, unconsciously drawing together and rebuilding a few of the links between them that had begun to weaken. Neither of them fully comprehended what they'd been told, but they believed. With that conviction came a level of dread that wasn't easy to shrug off. Only reassurances and loving hope could mitigate its effects.  
  
Standing together but lost in separate paths of thought, Emma and Jesse stood in the hanger.  
Once, had time been allowed to progress without Portia's interference, it was possible that love could have blossomed here. It would never have been as strong as the love between Adam and Emma, but it would have been something worth having. Never knowing that the chance was there, Emma and Jesse left each other's company, neither feeling a loss or a gain, just a simple feeling of the balanced now.  
  
As Emma started to head for her room and a much needed nap, Jesse called out to her. "What?  
I didn't hear you?" She said as she turned back.  
  
"I said, why did Charlotte tell you to give this to me?" He held up a small leather bound book with gold script on the cover. It read simply "Hope" and bore no markings of publication or indication that it was printed for profit as there were no bar codes to scan. Jesse looked at the book again, felt the most peculiar sensation, like reverse deja vu. "What did Charlotte say about me?"  
  
"I'm sorry. She never really told me why, just that she wanted you to have that book." Emma ran a hand through her dark hair and rubbed the back of her neck. The action brought a slight feeling of relaxation to the sore muscles in her shoulders. "The only thing I remember her saying was, 'Jesse gave me this book and I want him to have it again, even if he doesn't understand why.' I don't really know what that means. I guess you made an impression on her in that future." Emma turned to leave. "Goodnight Jesse."  
  
"Night." He said with a shrug, mild confusion in his voice. Book in hand, he took a short walk around Sanctuary, being thankful that it was intact and undamaged. Eventually, he ended up in his room. There, he opened the book and started reading a short introduction on the cover page out loud.  
  
"Hope is the balm of our souls. It gives us the strength to carry on in the darkness of life's despair, it touches the secret heart where we truly live, and kisses us goodnight like a childless mother to a friend's conception. We live only for Hope that we may love. Here reads the account of Hope in the journey of life. Here is to be found love and acceptance for all who hold such same faiths to heart. May these words guide your soul and rest your weary head."  
  
Jesse read until a few minutes turned to a couple of hours. When sleep finally claimed him, his pillow was the open pages of the book Hope. In his last moment of wakefulness before falling into a dreamless slumber, he thought that the Charlotte Cook of thirty years forward had understood exactly what he was feeling. She knew of his sadness and loneliness. Jesse's path was changed by the book. All of their paths had been changed by the future that would never be, but his most of all.  
  
It would be many hours before he woke, finished the book, and discovered a simple grey envelope taped to the last page, a hastily written letter, just two pages, hidden inside.  
  
Shalimar sat on the edge of her bed and sighed. "So what do you think about all of that?" Her voice trembled just slightly, revealing only a hint of the unease that plagued her like some unholy virus. A hand moved back and twisted stray hairs back into place behind one ear, the motions calming to both sides of Shalimar's soul, pure human and Feral enhancement. "Do you think Eckhart's out there somewhere? Plotting his revenge?"  
  
"I think he's stuck in that damn pod where he belongs." Brennan said and then shuddered involuntarily. "God, just thinking about the fact that we were all in pods in that future. . . makes my skin crawl away and hide under a bed." A handsome grin formed on his face. "Preferably yours."  
  
"Cute." There was an answering smile on Shalimar's face for just a second. It melted away though, replaced by a look of cold dread. "I can't imagine what it was like. Being captured,  
tortured, thrown in pods." She shook her head, golden locks swirling around her head. "I can almost see it. Thorne sending that dagger into the control panel and you, me, and the rest of the team climbing out just in time to stop Catherine from killing Adam. Barely in time to save Emma's life."  
  
An involuntary shiver stole her voice for a moment. "Brennan, what if Eckhart did get out? What if he's out there somewhere? Waiting for us, hunting us?"  
  
Brennan closed his eyes and turned away. He thought about all the horrible things the Eckhart of the future had done. He thought about the millions that had died, the rebel movement, the other him and the other Shalimar, married and then imprisoned in pods. He thought about coming out of that dreaded stasis, blinking away years of slumber, and seeing a gun pointed at Adam's head, Emma's lifeless body cradled in his arms. Brennan thought about everything that had happened in that future and then considered the fate of Eckhart.  
  
"If he's out there, we will stop him."  
  
Alone in his lab, the night slowly passing into the cold and unfeeling river of time, Adam sat, his hands bound to work and his mind focused on problems at hand. His heart, however, was not easily chained by mundane research and ordinary intrigues. Deep inside, he could not escape Emma's beautiful smile or the way her eyes shined when light hit them. Every breath he took was perfumed by the memory of her skin, hair, and touch. A shiver ran down his spine and a sigh escaped his lips and all from a moment's indulgence in the memory.  
  
"Whoever said love conquers all should have added a postscript about it making work very difficult." He muttered fondly, the memory of Emma's soft sighs against his neck holding his attention where science and reason could not.  
  
"I'll second that. If you'll replace work with sleep."  
  
Adam turned to find Emma standing in the doorway, an over length T-shirt serving as a nightgown. She was smiling sweetly, head slanted right, eyes fixed on the man before her. One arm drifted at her side, the other held the frame of the doorway, giving her the look of a model posed for a catalogue shoot. Her hair was fuzzy from tossing and turning. Dark smudges under her eyes marred the perfection of her face, though Adam found them but a minor flaw that helped to accentuate her natural splendor.  
  
"I couldn't sleep. Everyone else is out like a light but not me." Emma whispered, her voice carrying in the empty and silent room, the only sounds the quick pulses of needful hearts and soft respiration. She looked down at her bare feet and let out a sigh that seemed to drain all the tension out of her body. When she looked up, her face was naked of pretension. "I can't sleep without you."  
  
The declaration made Adam's heart skip a beat. "You're all I can think about. Nothing else can hold my attention for more than a minute." He rose from his utilitarian metal stool and started walking toward her, speaking as he did. Every word was devoid of any falsehood. "Every thought I have is about you. Every breath I take, the very beating of my heart, is for you. I've never loved anyone this much in my entire life. I need you so much that it hurts."  
  
"You sound like a Valentine's card." Emma said, looking away out of mild embarrassment. She shivered when Adam touched her chin and lifted her face. He leaned down and kissed her lips.  
It was gentle and loving, almost chaste. "Adam, what are we going to do? We can't hide this from the others forever." Her arms went around his body, hands clasping his back and pulling him closer. Pressed together now, they hugged, wanting to feel the comforting love they shared.  
  
"No, we can't. And Emma," Adam whispered directly into her ear while running a hand up and down her back, "I don't want to hide. I want to tell everyone how I feel about you. I want to show the world." He wanted to go on but stopped when he felt Emma pulling away from him.  
There was a question aching to be asked but Adam restrained himself.  
  
"I'm scared Adam. I don't know how Shalimar or Brennan or Jesse is going to react to you and me. We can't just come right out and tell them." Emma turned around and threw her hands in the air. "Damn it! Why do I even care what they think! You're the only man for me Adam, the only one I've ever loved this much." She swung herself into his arms and held him tightly,  
burying her face in his chest.  
  
He ran a hand through her fiery hair. She'd dyed it just after they'd returned from the dark future. Emma had been talking about it for a while. The red suited her, Adam thought, as he held her against his body and tried to protect her from herself. She was like a flame burning out of control. Her life had been filled with rejections and disappointments. Only a few friends and Mutant X could be trusted, but only so far. Emma constantly felt the need to be accepted by them. It was like an addiction, it grew worse when she wasn't doing something useful. Standing with her in the lab, arms holding her tight, Adam realized just how fragile she was and how delicate the balance of trust was for her. A year of familial closeness still hadn't erased her lingering doubts that Mutant X'd kick her out if she screwed up.  
  
"It's alright Emma. We'll wait until we're sure. And then, I'm going to show everyone how much I love you."  
  
She looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes. "What are you going to do?" The question was filled with a longing that almost made Adam answer immediately. Only a desire for the moment to be perfect kept Adam from speaking.  
  
"You'll see. For now though, we should go to bed." And without warning he swept Emma off her feet and into his arms. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in close to kiss his neck. Together, they left the lab for Adam's room. Everyone was asleep and no one heard Adam lay her upon his bed. No one heard the rustle of clothing being shed, of sheets being pulled around bodies. They were quiet and almost chaste as the night deepened.  
  
They fell asleep, beautifully bound by their love. Night watched over them and smiled down as easy dreams of a brighter future kept nightmares at bay. Shadows played in their hair and dashed across their skin. The hour grew later and, in the stillness, they dreamed of a perfect future where they were happy and together forever. For this night, there were no fears that could break the magical spell their lovemaking had cast. In the darkness they felt loved and at peace. No matter what the morning would bring, they had this one moment of passion to carry them through it.  
  
Emma twisted Adam's hair between her fingers, asleep and dreaming of him. Adam held her body against him, taking infinite comfort from the contact. Together, in dreaming, they recalled a line from a book they'd both read at Brennan's instance. It was a simple quote that summed up the gift of love and life, especially such a surprisingly deep love as their's.  
  
Isn't it lucky?  
  
END OF EPILOGUE  
  
Author's Note:  
  
For everyone who's been reading, I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did.  
"Flashforward" may not be perfect, but I loved creating it. Those of you who left me reviews, I am thankful for them. They helped me to work time in for writing when I really didn't have any time at all. I've actually fallen behind on my work! It's worth it, make no mistake, as long as one person is reading and enjoying, I will continue.  
  
"Flashforward" is not the end. I have a sequel story already in the works. Remember, this story took place just before the second season began. Now, the next part will begin shortly into the second year in this alternate universe I've concocted.  
  
The first part of "The Price" will be posted soon. Hopefully, if I can catch up on some work, I'll be able to pound it out faster than "Flashforward." I think everyone will like what I've got in store for you.  
  
Again, thank you all for reading and I am truly sorry about how long it's taken for some of these updates. 


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